The Cinderella Puzzle
by Madam Facilier
Summary: In some ways, Yūri Katsuki was like Cinderella. Poised and beautiful on the ice, dime-a-dozen nervous wreck the second she stepped off. Attracting the attention of Viktor Nikiforov—the king of the ice—should have led to happily ever after. But this Cinderella was already taken, oblivious to the king's affection, cat's jealousy, and the Godmother's distaste. (Genderbent AU Fem!Yūri)
1. Chance Encounter

**This is a request from Shiranai Atsune. I know many of you were expecting an update from Yuri! on Stage? or even from my Fairy Tail fanfics, but I couldn't live with not living up to my promise.**

 **So this is an AU story where the major difference is that Y** **ūri is a girl,and because of that some things go very differently.**

 **Also, the title and summary are subject to change (I was under a lot of pressure, okay). So if at any point you receive an alert that a story of mine with a title and summary you don't recognize just updated, I definitely changed it.**

* * *

 **Sochi, Russia**

 **Iceberg Skating Palace**

Yuri Plisetsky was bored.

The awards ceremonies always took too long. The ceremony for the Junior division skaters ended long ago, but he couldn't leave yet. Yakov would have his head if he tried to leave before Viktor got his medal. So until the Senior men's ceremony was over, Yuri had to wait in the stands with his gold medal.

Yuri wished that the officials would get a move on with the Senior ladies' ceremony. It wasn't because he wanted to see Viktor get his fifth consecutive gold—the airhead had way too many to count and could honestly do without even one. It certainly wasn't because Mila made it to the podium with silver to show for it.

Was he upset that Mila didn't get the gold this year?

Hell no.

Yuri was more interested in the girl who ranked below Mila and knocked down that American skater whose name he didn't bother to learn because he was too busy laughing at her ruined makeup. With black streaks running from her eyes like ugly tears, no wonder the American's presentation score was so low.

"First, the winner of the gold medal, representing Italy!" _Took them long enough,_ Yuri thought as they announced the overall winner. First in Russian, then in English, ending with the skater's name— "Sara Crispino!"

Yuri watched as the tanned dark haired woman skated towards the middle and bowed. He had to admit that the Crispino girl earned the gold—she was a strong jumper, which definitely helped her during the second half of the free skate.

"Second, the winner of the silver medal, representing Russia: Mila Babicheva!" Nearly the entire stadium—filled primarily with Russian spectators—erupted in applause as the red-haired young woman made her way onto the ice, waving and bowing and even blowing a kiss. They were miles away from Saint Petersburg yet Yuri could already smell a sweaty macho hockey player seething in jealousy as though said hockey oaf was sitting next to him. (He wasn't, thank God.)

"Third—" Yuri sat up as he saw—as much as he could in the dark stadium—a figure step out on the ice and wait by the rink boards. "The winner of the bronze medal, representing Japan: Yūri Katsuki!"

Yuri clapped until his hands were sore as a young Japanese woman took to the ice, a bashful smile on her face as she spun around and bowed, her ponytail waving like a personal victory banner.

 _Yūri Katsuki,_ Yuri thought to himself as the female Yuri hugged Mila and the Crispino girl before taking her spot on the podium. _She flubbed her jumps but her step sequences grab your attention._

Yūri Katsuki was amazing to watch, if one ignored her failed jumps. She displayed the most intricate footwork Yuri had ever seen, but what really saved her in the end was her presentation. While Mila and Crispino were perfect in the technical aspect, Yūri had the highest presentation score out of all of them. Somehow, the Japanese woman won bronze with a technically flawed long program.

And on her first debut at the Grand Prix Final, too!

 _If she landed all of her jumps, she would have won gold,_ Yuri thought, balling up a hand. The medalists skated a lap around the ice to wave to the crowd before stopping in front of the photographers. _I want to see her skate perfectly one day._

* * *

"Ready to go?"

The blond teenager looked up from his phone to see Viktor—the pretentious ass— _finally_ leave the dressing room. "I've been waiting for eighty-four years," he snapped, shoving his phone into his pocket.

Viktor walked ahead, unfazed by Yuri's remark. Yuri hated how nothing ever seemed to ruffle the man's feathers—or maybe he was going deaf, if his gray hair and receding hairline were anything to go by.

"Yuri," Viktor said as they entered the foyer, where many people were either standing around or starting to leave. "You did well tonight, but I think your step sequence could use a bit—"

"I won, didn't I?" Yuri groaned as Viktor went on about finesse while they made their way towards Yakov. "So who really cares? Quit nagging me already."

Yuri learned long ago how to tune out Yakov when the old man had nothing new or important to say, which actually happened frequently. He also learned, after years of skating in the public eye, how to tell when people were staring at him when he wasn't looking. Yuri turned in the direction of the eyes, finding that Japanese announcer and a dark-haired young woman with glasses standing next to Yūri Katsuki's coach. Going off her athletic wear and the lanyard, the woman was definitely a competitor. Yuri didn't remember seeing her on the ice, though the woman's ponytail kept nagging him for some reason.

"Yuri!"

The sound of his name had Yuri's head whirling towards Sara Crispino, followed closely by her brother. But what the hell did the Italian girl want with him?

It turned out Crispino wasn't interested in him, but the woman standing near Celestino Cialdini. "There you are!" Sara cried, resting her hands on the barrier that separated her from the young woman. "You looked so different, I almost didn't recognize you, Yūri!"

If Yuri had been drinking something, he would have done a classic spit-take. Since that wasn't the case, Yuri could only sputter in shock. He _knew_ that ponytail was familiar, but how the hell did Yuri not recognize _Yūri Katsuki_?!

"Come out to dinner with us!" Sara requested. "Everyone's dying to meet you!"

"Sara!" Her brother objected.

"E-everyone?" Yūri squeaked.

"It's just the girls," the Italian woman reassured. "Everyone else in the ladies' division already knows each other—everyone but you!"

"Um..."

The female Yuri looked towards her coach, who took her suitcase from her. "You should go," the large man said, holding out his free hand. "It'll be good for you."

Yūri removed her backpack and turned it over to Celestino, who hoisted it over his own shoulder. Apparently, the Japanese Yuri knew when people were staring at her too, since she turned in Yuri's direction. The Russian teen quickly looked away, trying to pull his hood over his eyes and hope she hadn't seen him. Thankfully, Viktor was here to distract Yūri from the blond teen.

"I want her back before midnight, and I want her alive," Celestino warned with a tone that sounded playful.

Yuri could hear the Crispino woman laugh. " _Ciao ciao, Allenatore Cialdini!_ "

"Sara!"

Yuri looked up hesitantly, relaxing when he saw Sara Crispino run off with Yūri Katsuki. This left Michele Crispino alone with his sister's luggage and Cialdini with his student's.

"Who was that girl?" Viktor asked. In the background, Yuri could hear Yakov and Celestino talk about each other's skaters.

Yuri really wanted to sock Viktor in the head and see if that would make him grow a brain. "Idiot. That was Yūri Katsuki from Japan. This was her first time at the Grand Prix Final and she came in third, right behind Mila."

"Oh?" Viktor pressed a finger to his lips, which formed that playful smile Yuri always wanted to smack off. "You seem to have paid a lot of attention to the ladies' division."

"You don't know what you're talking about, old man."

Viktor chuckled as he leaned forward. "Don't think I didn't see you turn red when she looked at us. I almost thought you had a crush on her, _Yurochka_."

Did Yuri think of Yakov's wrath when he struck the heel of his palm to Viktor's chin? Did he remember that they were in a public place and any fuck up would probably end up as tabloid gold? Did he feel guilty that he _might_ have ruined Viktor's face?

Hell. No.

Especially to the last one.

Yuri just really wanted Viktor to shut up.

 **Translation notes:**

"Allenatore" **is the the Italian word for "** coach".


	2. A Lesson from the Godfather

**The music Yūri skates to for her exhibition is called "** Bird Person **" from** Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind **. The video I used as my reference is by** bluewavesgold **. Start from 0:00 and cut off at 2:09, that's how long her exhibition is.**

* * *

Ah, gala exhibitions: the good times when restrictions were nonexistent and the only competition that existed at all was how much more outlandish the next skater could be than the last, either in costume or in routine. As it stood, Chris was the current champion of the unspoken contest. Viktor swore that Chris just about put Evgeni Plushenko's "Sex Bomb" to shame.

His chin still from Yuri's outburst last night. The blond teen also refused to apologize, even when Yakov screamed his head off at him. Viktor never expected him to do so anyway: he'd never seen the Russian Fairy genuinely apologize to anyone.

Still, he did confirm why Yuri seemed so fixated with the other Yuri from Japan. Hardly anyone from the men's competition ever payed attention to the women's, unless they were cheering on a rinkmate or a sibling like Michele Crispino. Viktor could only guess that the girl's name had caught Yuri's attention first, thus making him want to stay for the event.

It seemed that Yūri Katsuki could turn heads when she decided to make the effort. Last night, she looked so tired—understandable, since yesterday was the final day of competition. Now, dressed in a floaty blue costume that made her look ethereal, she looked stunning. She would certainly make a good match for the Russian Fairy.

Cao Bin finished his exhibition piece to the crowd's applause. "Yura, your favorite skater is up next," Viktor teased as the announcer called out Katsuki's name.

"Shut up, old man," was all that Yuri said, never taking his eyes off the screen.

"Yurochka's just mad that she's out of his league," Mila supplied, resting her chin on top of the blond boy's head much to his annoyance.

Meanwhile, Yūri waited by the rink boards and breathed in, like she was trying to calm herself. The soft notes of a clarinet played and Yūri made her way towards the center of the ice. As the music—the clarinets now replaced by strings—sped up, so did Yūri, who was now preparing to enter a jump.

She landed a triple Axel in time with the music, and Viktor couldn't help but clap with the audience. An Axel was the most difficult jump to pull off, and the triple was one that not many women in the skating world performed.

The music was beautiful and there were perfect places for jumps and some spin sequences that Viktor could imagine it being used for a competitive program. Whoever choreographed the routine made use of the cues as well. As the strings played softly to accompany the choir, Yūri was already in a spin sequence. When she rose, she caught her right foot and raised her leg in a perfect Biellmann spin.

It wasn't a rare event when a skater decided to turn an exhibition program into a competitive one or even turn an old program into an exhibition. Still, the choreographer for the young woman would have to up their game if Yūri ever wanted to use this in a competition. The choreography wasn't bad, but Viktor felt that it could use more theatrics in some areas.

Yūri moved into an intricate step sequence as the strings sped up, likely signalling the tail end of the music and the program. A flying sit spin, landing as the strings cut off sharply and returned in a tremolo as she spun, the fabric of her costume flowing with her. Now she was rising, her rotations picking up speed until she stopped with her arms outstretched. The arena erupted in applause as Yūri waved and bowed.

Viktor was starting to understand why Yuri was so enamored with her. The Japanese Yuri was a beautiful skater, moving like the song was inside her and desperate to be freed. As she traded places with the Canadian skater who placed third in Viktor's bracket, she relaxed and held her flushed cheeks.

A hard kick to his side told him that the Russian Fairy was displeased. "You're starting to drool," Yuri growled as "Uptown Funk" began to play.

* * *

The banquet: the lifeless part of every event Viktor competed in. Every year, he had to greet his sponsors with a smile before he could chat with the other competitors. Yuri was practically glued to his hip, never wanting to chat with other Junior skaters his own age. He probably thought he was above the others in his division. Well, he was right.

But that kind of thinking would definitely cause problems when Yuri moved into the Senior division next year.

Yuri caught sight of something that made him quickly turn away. The last time he was like this—albeit more red—was when he saw the other Yuri. Viktor looked around the banquet hall for the object of Yuri's fascination. He figured she wouldn't be too far from Celestino—he was right. Celestino Cialdini just entered the banquet hall, looking every bit like a proud father. The Japanese Yuri was at his side, wearing a dark blue dress and glasses with her hair in a bun that reminded him of Lilia Baranovskaya.

"Is that really her?" During the exhibition skate, she looked pretty and serene. Here she looked like a timid little rabbit, ready to flee at a moment's notice. She was nothing like the poised beauty he had seen on the ice.

Yūri Katsuki, it seemed, was an ever-changing enigma.

"Don't even think about going after her," Yuri said, aiming a sideways glare at Viktor.

Viktor held back a chuckle as he looked away from Yūri, who gingerly picked up a champagne flute. "Don't worry. I won't steal your girlfriend."

The Russian Fairy glowered up at him, burning red with rage—or maybe it was embarrassment. "I told you, she's NOT my—!"

"Wait, wait! Mila, that's where—!"

"Relax, Yūri! I'm just going to introduce you to an admirer of yours!" Mila's voice drew closer. "Hey, Yuri!"

Whatever Yuri was going to say to Viktor died on his tongue as he redirected his frustration towards Mila, only to jolt in shock as their rink mate dragged the other Yuri towards them. Mila stood between the two, a playful smile on her face. She was clearly enjoying Yura's awkwardness. "Yūri, this is my rink mate, Y—wait!" she exclaimed, looking back and forth from their Yuri and the other Yuri. "I'm standing between two Yuris! I can make a wish!"

"Um..." Yūri looked at Yuri and then Mila, her cheeks flushed but not nearly as red as Yuri's. "I'm missing something, aren't I?"

"It's a Russian thing," Viktor explained. Yūri had looked at him when he said this, only to avert her gaze while her face burned redder. Viktor was starting to wonder if she had a shade of red named after her.

"So your name is Yuri?" she asked the blond teen standing across from her.

Yuri nodded before he finally found the courage to speak again. "...that thing in your hair is pretty," he muttered. Immediately afterwards, Yuri looked mortified with himself.

"Now that you mention it..." Viktor watched as Mila touched what looked like a colorful bead charm dangling from the other Yuri's bun. "This is pretty cool. What is it?"

"This?" Yūri reached back for the charm with one hand before she pulled a long pin out of her bun, which she held in place with her other hand. The bead charm hung from the end of the pin as she held it out for display. "It's my hairpin. I use this because bobby pins never really worked for me."

"It looks well-made," Viktor noted.

"That's because I made it." All heads turned to the speaker: a sharply dressed young Asian man with reddish brown hair standing not too far away from the group.

Yūri Katsuki let go of her bun in surprise, her dark hair tumbling just before her shoulder blades. Apparently she recognized the young man. "Long!" she exclaimed as the man walked—Viktor noticed he had a slight limp, too—over to them. Once he was close enough, the two embraced. "What are you doing here?"

"I sprained my ankle, remember?" The man called Long said, letting go of Yūri. "I took my exams early but I couldn't go to Shanghai. So I decided to come see you."

"But how did you get in _here_? The banquet?"

"All I had to do was walk in like I owned the place and no one batted an eye." Viktor actually believed the man's alibi: the way he carried himself, Viktor thought that Long was a fellow competitor until he mentioned his sprained ankle and Shanghai. Yūri didn't seem to believe Long if her skeptical expression was anything to go by. "Well, Celestino snuck me in first and I've been talking to a figure skater named Cao Bin while I waited for him to come back with you," he admitted.

"Yūri!" Mila brought her fellow competitor's attention back to the Russian team. "Want to introduce your friend to us?"

"No need," Yuri grumbled, crossing his arms. "I already know the lucky bastard."

"Yuri," Viktor scolded before looking at Long apologetically. Strangely, the young man didn't look the least bit angry. In fact, Long even looked amused by how Yuri addressed him.

"Everyone, this is He Long," Yūri explained, turning back to the group. He Long took advantage of having Yūri's back to him by taking out a small comb to smooth her hair out. "We go to the same college...and he's my boyfriend." No wonder Yuri was fuming—his crush was already with someone else. Then again, Viktor would have been surprised if Yūri wasn't taken.

"I'm also her stylist," He Long piped up, never looking up as he gathered Yūri's hair. "All of her costumes this season and last are my designs and I'm half the reason she looks so good."

Mila whistled, clearly impressed. "Your boyfriend's a costume designer?"

"Fashion designer," Yūri corrected. "At least, he's studying to be one. But you could try to go easy on the flair once in a while," she added to the man behind her.

He Long let out a weak laugh. "After all the effort I put in to make you look stunning? How mean, Yūri. The pin?"

"I swear, one of your designs was enough to guarantee a costume violation," she said, handing her hairpin to her boyfriend.

"You wore it during an exhibition, no harm done," He Long replied smoothly, holding Yūri's hair in a bun while he pushed in the hairpin. "Besides, when you skate, I want all eyes—" He let go of the pin and the bun, satisfied when his girlfriend's hair remained in place. "—on _you_."

Yūri briefly touched her bun before looking at He Long. "I'm going to go find Celestino for a bit, all right?"

"And while we're doing that, you'll be telling me all about your boyfriend," Mila chimed in, winking mischievously at Yūri as they left together. "So tell me how you met—"

As soon as they were out of earshot, Yuri let out a breath Viktor didn't know he'd been holding. "Lucky bastard," he spat. Viktor wanted to laugh at Yuri's almost pathetic display of jealousy, but doing that now, with said lucky bastard standing beside him, would make it look like he was agreeing with Yuri.

"Sorry about Yurochka," Viktor said to the young man.

"It's fine," He Long dismissed with a smile. "Half of my rink mates and Yūri's call me that, anyway."

"So you _are_ a skater."

"Of sorts."

"An ice dancer? A pair skater?" Viktor doubted he was in the same bracket as him—throughout the Grand Prix series, he never heard of a skater named He Long.

"If I was, Yūri probably wouldn't be in ladies' singles." A server passed by with a tray and He Long plucked a champagne flute with ease. "But we would have a problem deciding whether to skate for China or Japan."

"Either one of those would work well for you both," Viktor assured as He Long sipped his drink. "You and Yūri seem to place a lot of trust in each other." He meant those words. He really did. When she first entered the banquet hall and when Mila brought her over to them, Yūri looked like a sheep thrown into the lion's pit. As soon as she saw He Long, her entire body relaxed, like she knew the young man would protect her.

He Long, however, lowered his glass and gave Viktor a questioning look, like the Russian had said something out of turn. "You say that like we're not _supposed_ to trust each other so much."

"I'm just pointing out the obvious," the Russian explained, trying to remove himself and the young man before him from the uncomfortably tense situation they abruptly entered. "I mean, it's a good thing that you're both like that. Most relationships usually have some degree of jealousy involved."

"Jealousy?" He Long barked out a laugh, like the idea was ridiculous to him. "That's what happens when there's no trust and you let fear control you. And when either side of a relationship lacks trust—" The Chinese man leaned closer, like he was about to share a secret. "—what right does anyone have to call that 'love'?"

* * *

 **In case you're wondering why an unfamiliar title showed up in your inbox, I decided to change it because parts of what I have planned for this story has some Cinderella elements to it.**

 **And those of you who read my other Yuri! on Ice fanfic, you have an advantage of sorts. For those who haven't, He Long is the character I made to be Yūri and Phichit's costume designer. He made his first appearance in** Yuri! on Stage? **.**


	3. Cinderella's Confession

**A notice: this story will involve some social media and its reactions. It's hard to make up usernames without wondering if someone already has it and will get offended. Can you guys tell me if you're okay with having your usernames used in the in-universe comments sections? Please know that this means you consent to your username being used in any kind of comment, either positive or negative. I understand if you don't want to.**

 **Now then, on with the story!**

* * *

(Picture: Katsuki Claims Silver At 2015-2016 Japanese Nationals)

At 23, Japanese ladies' singles skater Yūri Katsuki is a late bloomer.

Katsuki rose to the Senior division at 18 with only a handful of Junior medals to her name. Her senior career was marked with little success until the 2014-2015 season, when she took bronze at Japanese Nationals and later gold at the Four Continents Championship. Katsuki made her Grand Prix Final debut this season when she was invited to the NHK Trophy, where she placed first.

(Picture: Katsuki and the Shibutanis standing with NHK mascot "Domo" at the NHK Gala Exhibition)

This allowed her to advance to the Rostelecom Cup, where she won a spot in the 2015 Grand Prix Final.

Katsuki is a skater known for her spin and step sequences as well as speed and musicality. While the skater has admitted she isn't always consistent on her jumps, she was able to claim a spot on the podium at her first Grand Prix Final.

Most figure skaters tend to tire in their early twenties. Skater Katsuki only seems to be getting started.

Comments:

 **yuri-is-an-angel** • [1 hour]

Look at her. Would you believe that this beauty is 23?

 **yurin-luck** • [58 min]

yuri-is-an-angel I know right! She looks like a high school student!

 **marichat4ever** • [57 min]

yuri-is-an-angel yurin-luck She's Asian. They're known for looking younger than they really are.

 **danceonice** • [40 min]

Sometimes I look at her footwork and imagine if she might be as phenomenal as an ice dancer.

 **katsu-damn girl** • [38 min]

She is the skating queen~young and sweet~looks like 17~

* * *

 **Sapporo, Japan**

Yūri swiped past various social media articles, stopping when she found one with a thumbnail of her on the podium. "'Late bloomer'...'little success"..." she read. "Inconsistent jumper..."

The last part wasn't the exact wording, but that's what it came to anyway. The article was a positive one that praised her success, but Yūri was more focused on the cleverly hidden jabs that seemed to mock her for only just rising from the depths.

"Speed and musicality..." Yūri noticed that the article _kindly_ failed to mention her lack of control over her speed, which was why she couldn't land her jumps properly. She would get all the rotations but the landings were shaky at best, over-rotated or failed completely on a bad day. Yūri blamed He Long for her new speed problems.

At least the speed helped her attempt a quad in Detroit. The look on Celestino's face when she tried was priceless.

"Yūri." A hand forcibly locked her phone, making the young woman look up to her coach. "Looking at the news always does more harm than good to you."

Celestino was right. Yūri did tend to lose her nerve whenever she read anything that was about her. Whenever she came across an article, she would initially scroll past it but curiosity led her back. She would always hunt for the bad parts that attacked her, no matter what kind of article it was. That was one of the reasons she didn't use social media as often as Phichit. Then again, Celestino also had a part in it so that she could focus more on her skating and less on opinions.

Yūri was thankful for that.

She hoped that they would be able to make it out the doors without event, but Morooka found them. "Katsuki-san!"

"Hi, Morooka." Yūri never understood why Morooka was interested in _her_. Katsuki Yūri: dime-a-dozen ladies' singles skater certified by Japan. There were other skaters in her division who would be worth Morooka's time—stronger jumpers, too, not an inconsistent mess like her. Most of them were younger and already at the top. Why did Morooka want anything to do with a late bloomer?

"Katsuki-san, before last year, you never had a string of victories," the announcer said. "What exactly changed that led to your sudden success?"

"Well, my coach focused on my speed and endurance." That was only half the reason. In reality, Yūri had no idea how she went from mediocre to rising star when the best she'd ever placed in her senior career was fourth—unless one counted the sparse bronze medals she had.

But Yūri had the sneaking suspicion that He Long had something to with her new victories. After the end of the 2013-2014 season, she had met the Chinese fashion design student during the summer. Back then, he was just a classmate with a portfolio filled with fantastic designs and a pair of roller blades that he used to get around. (They disappeared one day and suddenly she saw him riding a bike.) He'd offered to design her costumes for the upcoming season for a fee—they were college students, after all. They had to get by somehow.

Then everything changed. People thought she could become the new queen of the figure skating world, but Yūri knew she was a fraud. Nothing had changed about her—she was the same as ever. The only difference was that she was wearing more beautiful costumes, designed by Yuan He Long to have all eyes on her.

Sooner or later, someone had to come to the same conclusion. If she did, then others were bound to follow. Once the spell of awe wore off, people would soon realize that she was just an average skater playing dress-up.

"Katsuki-san? Katsuki-san!"

"Yūri!" Celestino yelled.

Yūri snapped out of her reverie to see a boy with dirty blonde hair and a loose streak of red. He looked at her worriedly—Yūri must have been lost in her head longer than she thought. "I'm sorry...who are you?"

The teen straightened up proudly with a wide smile. "Minami Kenjirō! I placed third in the men's competition!"

"Minami-kun is a Junior, but he's planning to make his senior debut next season," Morooka explained. "Do you have any advice for him?"

Advice? Plan your jumps for the second half; add a new jump to your roster—every coach gave their skaters advice on how to catapult their scores. What advice could she give that Kenjirō hadn't already heard from others?

"Before that..." Kenjirō bowed as he held out a marker and a notepad to her. "Can I have your autograph!" Visibly taken back, Yūri took the marker and wrote out the characters of her name.

 _Born to win..._ Katsuki.

Yūri...the name was usually written with the characters for _lily_ , but her parents gave her her name with _courage_ and _victory_ in mind.

"Your costumes are super pretty!" Kenjirō gushed as Yūri handed back the notepad. "But aren't they expensive?"

"Oh! No, they're really not," Yūri admitted. At least, not for her, when she was dating the man who made them. "They're not too expensive—my boyfriend makes them."

"Your boyfriend?!" Kenjirō jolted back in surprise, eyes suddenly pooling with tears. He bounced back, but the sad puppy-eyes remained. "Are you happy with him?"

"Y-yes."

"Does he treat you well?!"

"He Long's very kind."

"Okay," Kenjirō conceded. "But if he's ever mean to you, can I beat him up?" he added eagerly.

" _What?_ " Yūri squeaked. Morooka and Celestino chuckled at the Junior skater's words, clearly amused by the supposed threat.

"I'll really do it!" Kenjirō declared, holding up a fist. "I took karate lessons a while back!"

"Um...please don't," Yūri insisted, lowering the younger skater's fist. "Really, I don't want you to be banned from skating for fighting!"

"...Fine," he huffed. "Then...will you ask him if he can make my costumes, too?"

Yūri knew that it didn't matter if she asked. He Long was always happy to design and earn money from his handmade costumes. Anything to keep them from remaining drawings of a dream that never was. "I think he would be happy to."

There were times when she liked to think of Yuan He Long as a wizard who placed spells on his designs. Spells that promised glamour and victory to the person who wore them. But all spells had to break at some point, didn't they?

So as long as the magic of He Long's costumes was still in effect, Yūri hoped that it would take Kenjirō where he wanted.

Just like it did for her.


	4. Jealousy of the Ice King

**Nikiforov Dominates Russian National Championship**

Following his victory at the Grand Prix Final, Viktor Nikiforov went on to become the winner of the Russian Figure Skating Championship. With this, he is guaranteed a spot in the European and World Championships.

Nikiforov is now 27 years old. Only time will tell if he will continue to skate after this season.

 **Related Articles:**

Top Ten Skaters of Each Discipline

Katsuki Takes Silver at Japanese Nationals

* * *

 **Saint Petersburg, Russia**

Viktor sighed as he laid back on his couch, his feet propped up on a pillow. Makkachin jumped into his lap, head resting on his thighs. He patted the poodle's head as he unlocked his phone and opened his news feed. At the top was an article with a thumbnail of him at the Russian Nationals.

"'Guaranteed a spot...'" he read. Was there ever a doubt that he wouldn't win the Nationals?

Well, there was some on Viktor's part. He was getting old—at some point he would have to retire. But he lived to surprise others—he didn't want to call it quits when everyone expected him to. So he continued to skate, surprising the audience by not retiring at the expected age.

As much as he loved surprising others, Viktor wanted to be surprised the most.

The gold medal was starting to lose its luster. What was considered the greatest achievement in the competitive season to all skaters meant almost nothing to Viktor. That wasn't to say that he didn't want to win anymore. No, no, Viktor loved winning. But where was the fun when it was what everyone expected him to get?

Viktor was about to leave the app when he saw a related article with Katsuki's name attached to it. Unable to help himself, he tapped on the link that directed him to the article.

"'A late bloomer...'" That explained why she only just entered the Grand Prix Final. She had promise—Viktor knew that much from watching her exhibition skate. To think that a woman her age only just began to peak. Viktor was slightly envious of that—by the time he was twenty-three, he was having thoughts of throwing in the towel.

He wondered if her youthful appearance had anything to do with that. Physically, she looked about Mila's age. When he saw the two women together at the banquet, Viktor honestly thought that Mila was the older one. To think that Yūri was older than Mila the whole time…

There was a picture of her with two other skaters standing next to the NHK mascot, Domo. Out of all the assignments, the NHK Trophy was definitely his favorite. He loved those mascots, and it was always funny and adorable when Domo fell over. Sometimes Viktor wondered why the other Grand Prix qualifying events didn't have fun mascots like Japan did.

"'Speed and musicality...'" Viktor was glad to see that he wasn't the only one who thought that. There were some routines where one could tell that the skater was just going through the motions. That was something Viktor was afraid would happen to him—that one day, a program would be nothing but a chore he wanted to get out of the way.

This girl, Yūri Katsuki, was different. It wasn't just that the music was already inside her. She skated like _she_ was the music. And her footwork! She was fast and meticulous during her step sequence. Viktor wouldn't have been surprised if she had cross-trained in some forms of dancing.

Viktor pulled up YouTube and quickly typed in what he wanted to find. As soon as the thumbnail of her in her floaty costume appeared, he tapped it and waited for the video to load. He had to wait longer because the dreaded ads.

"Look at her, Makka," he said, showing his phone to his dog. The great poodle sniffed at the screen a little as Yūri landed a triple Axel. "Doesn't she look beautiful?" Makkachin huffed in response.

There was something familiar about the spiral sequence she moved into after the cymbals struck a second time. Not just familiar—something that made him nostalgic. Usually this happened when he was watching older videos of himself.

That was when he realized why it made him nostalgic—somewhere in her routine, there was his style added to it. When Viktor skated, he did so with an air of grace that made him seem untouchable. When Yūri skated, she seemed like a bird that would fly away if one even tried to approach her. Whereas Viktor was more mature with his skating, Yūri seemed to have added an innocent touch to it.

Was she a fan of his?

One Google search led him to her Wikipedia page. If she was a fan—or if she saw him as an inspiration—the Wiki profile would tell him. Most skaters usually had someone or something to inspire them to skate in the first place. Viktor quickly scrolled to the section marked **Personal Life**.

Call him vain, but he secretly hoped he inspired her to start skating.

 _Yūri Katsuki...born November 29 in Hasetsu, Japan...parents run a hot spring inn, has an older sister and—_

"A poodle, Makkachin!" Viktor gushed. "She has a poodle! She'll definitely love you!" Makkachin barked excitedly.

Viktor's face fell when he found out how she began skating in the first place. Yūri studied ballet first before her teacher—one Minako Okukawa, whose name had a link attached to it—encouraged her to try figure skating.

That was it. There was no inspiration from watching figure skating. She was just pushed towards figure skating and fell in love with the ice.

Even though he had all that he needed to know, Viktor read on. He didn't want to stop. He wanted to know more.

He _needed_ more.

 _She moved to Detroit when she was eighteen to train and attend college._

Viktor was impressed. Athletes usually abandoned higher education until the end of their careers. There were some who insisted that they could balance the two. Most of those people ended up choosing one or the other in the end.

 _Studied various forms of dance_ —Viktor had been spot on with his guess—and a year ago, _she started dating classmate and speed skater Yuan He Long._

Viktor stopped reading. He had never learned the last name of the young man who was smuggled into the banquet. Seeing it now—with a link attached to it—this had to be the same young man who Yūri Katsuki had introduced as her boyfriend.

 _"'You say that like we're not **supposed** to trust each other so much.'"_

Viktor wanted to leave. He wanted to exit the page and forget that the young man existed just once more. But curiosity won out in the end and he tapped on the highlighted name.

The picture that greeted him was of the reddish-brown haired young man he met at the banquet. Instead of formal wear, the young man wore a red and black skin suit along with a pair of clear goggles. But what really got Viktor's attention was the Chinese man's expression. He had a look of savage triumph on his face. It was quite obvious to Viktor that the He Long in this picture knew that he had won.

 **Yuan He Long** ( **Chinese** : 袁河龍 _Yuán Hé Lóng_ ) is a Chinese short track speed skater.

He Long Yuan. There was his name, written in Chinese characters followed by the pinyin. Yūri's boyfriend was a short track speed skater with quite a collection of medals from various competitions.

Viktor never paid much attention to the other sports played on the ice. The only time he did was during and after the Sochi Olympics. That was because of the stir created by a short track speed skater Russia had gained at South Korea's expense. Viktor had briefly acknowledged the sport's existence only because the athlete that created the international ruckus chose _Viktor_ as his Russian name. For a while, the news was all about a skater named Viktor—half the time they were referring to the figure skater and the other half the speed skater. The surname kept escaping Viktor, but he knew it started with An—maybe it was Antonov?(*)

Born May 6, so he was currently twenty-one years old—Viktor was surprised to learn that. He thought He Long was older than Yūri or at least the same age.

 _Born and raised in Shanghai...was first introduced to skating when neighborhood children invited him to a skate park._ Currently studying and skating in Detroit and dating Yūri Katsuki.

Apparently, He Long had caused a stir as well when he said he wanted to study fashion design in America. There were concerns because that meant he would be training away from China and the rest of the country's short track speed skaters. His speed didn't seem to be hindered by that fact, if the medals following his move to Detroit had anything to say about it.

Having read and learned more than he wanted, Viktor erased the page and locked his phone. Makkachin moved closer to Viktor's face, as though the large poodle could sense he was troubled.

Viktor patted Makkachin's head gratefully as he glanced at the black screen of his phone. He tried to remind himself that the Wikipedia page was gone now. There was nothing on his phone to remind him of the young man who was lucky to have Yūri Katsuki.

But it did nothing to erase the image of the speed skater smirking at him, daring him— _anyone_ —to try and take away his shining moment.

* * *

 **Sports Champions Club**

He knew this routine like the back of his hand. He choreographed it himself. Viktor spent so many hours skating and revising _Stay Close to Me_ until it was one that satisfied not just himself, but Yakov as well.

Of course, Yakov always found something to pick at.

"You need more height during your quads, Vitya," Yakov said, after Viktor had skated _Stay Close to Me_ for the umpteenth time. "You didn't jump high enough during your quad lutz. You could have lost the edge on the landing or even fallen."

Yuri found Yakov overbearing. There were times when Viktor did, too. Georgi, on the other hand, held onto Yakov's words like a lifeline. Still, the fact that Yakov could find the tiniest flaw in a person's skating proved how effective he was as a coach.

Then again, this was also the Yakov who once found a curious detail in the contract Yuri's landlord wrote up when the blond teen needed Yakov to prove he could pay rent for his apartment. According to Yuri, the storm Yakov swore up that day was the most glorious thing he'd ever witnessed in his young life.

That definitely explained how Yuri's potty mouth came to be.

"Take a break, Vitya," Yakov added before he focused his attention on Mila. She must have attempted a triple Axel because the next thing Yakov yelled out was, "That triple Axel is a mess! Katsuki could land hers and still hold the edge and she placed _third_ at the Grand Prix Final! _Third_ , I tell you! If she hadn't messed up so much, she could have beaten you easily!"

Katsuki—ah, he was referring to the other Yuri, the Japanese beauty stolen by the Chinese speed skater.

 _What?_

As soon as Viktor had his blade guards in place, he held his forehead. What possessed him to think that Yūri Katsuki had been _stolen_? She was her own person—she _chose_ to love He Long. At the banquet, she was comfortable around her boyfriend that she _clearly_ couldn't have been forced into a relationship.

So he reasoned, but the picture he had seen yesterday—the one of He Long smiling dangerously like a wolf with its fangs bared— _that_ had scared Viktor. The He Long he had seen on the Wikipedia page was a far cry from the debonair young man he'd met at the banquet.

He needed to get his mind off of Katsuki and Yuan.

 _Now._

Unlocking his phone and searching through his music player, Viktor listened to the slow, dulcet melody of what he hoped would become the song to accompany his short program.

No, he wasn't going to change his programs now. Viktor was going to unveil his new program next season. But this was a piece with two different arrangements. This was _On Love: Agape_ : a gentle melancholy song with a soprano singing with an ethereal voice. This was unconditional love.

He tried to imagine how he would skate to it. Slow, flowing movements; gentle—he would make himself seem delicate and vulnerable. Like a little bird, but more than that. Angelic, even.

An image of Yūri Katsuki in the middle of a Biellmann spin as a choir sang invaded his mind. The memory of the song she skated to conflicted with the melody of the song he was listening to right now. Still, he'd thought of her, during her exhibition: flowing, ethereal—hell, Viktor admitted she looked so tranquil that she seemed like an angel.

Deciding that _On Love: Agape_ was not helping his thought process, Viktor tapped on the twin arrows that took him to Agape's parallel, _On Love: Eros_. The faster rhythm was a stark contrast to the slow tempo of Agape. Fast, heated, daring—this was a song of sexual love. A song that said, _'Catch me. I dare you.'_

He would entice the audience to try and join him, but he himself would remain distant. Yes, he would skate like he was within reach, when in reality he was untouchable. Maybe Viktor would skate like he was trying to seduce a woman to abandon her jealous lover.

 _"'Jealousy? That's what happens when there's no trust and you let fear control you.'"_

Viktor tried to drown the speed skater's words by turning up the volume by two levels. When that didn't work, he ripped his earphones out, but now he was left to sort his disorganized thoughts.

 _"'And when either side of a relationship lacks trust, what right does anyone have to call that 'love'?'"_

How did he do that? How was He Long Yuan so sure that Yūri Katsuki could never have eyes for anyone else? She was _beautiful_. Anyone would fall in love with her easily and try to take her away. And the speed skater was so confident—to the point of _arrogant_ —that no one could ever steal her from him. That no matter what, she would never leave him.

That amount of confidence shouldn't have been possible!

The image from He Long's Wikipedia profile—now burned into his mind—resurfaced. That look of savage triumph like he knew he'd won—a look that now seemed to say, _'Go on. Take her. I **dare** you.'_

Oh, he would. Viktor wanted to so badly, just to see He Long Yuan crumble when he lost. He could think of nothing better for that pretentious speed-skating—

"Lucky bastard," Viktor found himself saying harshly under his breath. Now he sounded like Yurochka.

He regretted it a little—the young man from the banquet did nothing to wrong Viktor. Yet here he was. The figure skater was already jealous of a _speed skater_ who he only knew for one night. Envious because the speed skater in question seemed to have no idea how fitting his nickname was—how _lucky_ he was to have Yūri Katsuki.

Viktor decided to put the arrangements of _On Love_ on hold. His short program music for next season was unclear, but Viktor wondered how Yakov would react if he chose The Hunchback of Notre Dame's _Hellfire_ as his free skate music.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 ***** In case you didn't get the reference, Viktor was talking about the real life short track speed skater, Viktor An. Before he skated for Russia, he used to skate for South Korea under his birth name, An Hyun-soo.


	5. A Day in Her Shoes

**The Shanghai Dragon Returns to China**

Following his graduation in December from a university in Detroit, Michigan, short track speed skater Yuan He Long returned to China and has resumed training in Shenyang.

Years ago, Yuan baffled Chinese skating officials when he expressed his desire for an American education but to continue representing China in short track speed skating. Such an act was unprecedented, as almost every speed skater who pursued higher education did so at an institution close to a venue located within their country. Yuan chose to study in Detroit, which lacks a proper speed skating venue like those found in China. Many were worried this decision would hinder Yuan's performance, but his victories following his move to Detroit put such concerns to rest.

While he studied and trained in Detroit, Yuan found love in Japanese ladies' singles figure skater Yūri Katsuki, with whom he graduated in December. Fans and followers have described Yuan and Katsuki as "star-crossed lovers", given their individual skating disciplines. Unlike Yuan, Katsuki stayed in Detroit, skating under Celestino Cialdini. As of late December, the two remain in a relationship.

* * *

 **{HE'S BACK! #shanghaidragon #aherocomeshome}**

 **{Our hero has come home! #yuan he long #shanghaidragon #aherocomeshome}**

 **{His girlfriend is so pretty! #yuan he long #yuri katsuki}**

 **{How did He Long manage to get a figure skater for a girlfriend? #ASpeedSkaterAndAFigureSkater? #inconceivable}**

 **{I ship them #yuan he long #katsuki yuri #yutsuki #loveonice}**

 **{ikr! they look so cute with each other! #yutsuki #perfect #relationshipgoals}**

 **{They should break up}**

 **{...what? #protectyutsuki #youaredead}**

* * *

 **Detroit, Michigan**

Yūri woke to the sound of her phone ringing loudly. She felt around for her glasses on her desk and slipped them on, blinking at the caller ID of the culprit. She barely registered the name before she swiped the screen and held her phone up to her ear. "Hello?"

"Yūri Katsuki, do you even _know_ what time it is?" A girl's voice boomed.

Yūri immediately paled as she checked her phone. Upon seeing the time and confirming that yes, she was supposed to be at the skating club right now, Yūri screeched as she abandoned her bed and raced through her room to get her skating gear and proper clothes on. Normally she would be out of classes and on her way to the rink but since her graduation in December, Yūri was able to catch up on all the hours of sleep that college deprived her of. Now she had to hurry, but Yūri doubted that Celestino would let her on the ice immediately. Most likely he would send her to the weight room for off-ice training.

"Thanks, Venus!" Yūri yelled into her phone as she shoved her shoes on.

"See you soon, Yūri!" the girl on the other end replied as Yūri shut the door behind her and hung up.

As she jogged as fast as she could to the skating club, Yūri reflected on all the steps she had taken to get here. Sometimes it was hard for Yūri to believe that five years ago, she left Japan and her family in Hasetsu to train at a top skating facility and attend college in America. The training was rigorous, the coursework demanding, and paying for her education was just a pain. Still, she wanted to be a world-class figure skater, high up there like Kim Yuna, Mao Asada, and Viktor Nikiforov.

After all, her dream to become a world-class figure started because of him.

Ever since she watched him win the Junior World Championships on that tiny TV set in her hometown's rink, she spent her most of her career chasing after him. Back then, she and her old rink mate Yuko even copied Viktor's old routines. Seeing as they were both girls, they couldn't copy everything—the difficulty for a woman to perform quad jumps frustrated Yūri to no end. Even though her attempts ended in failure each time, it didn't stop her from trying. She wanted to meet him on the same level, even though she couldn't skate in the same bracket. The best she could hope was to skate at the same competition.

So when the chance to train with a top figure skating coach and still go to college came, she took it.

In the beginning, she had some regrets.

She regretted that her English wasn't perfect before she arrived. She regretted leaving her small hometown by the sea. Yūri had been overwhelmed by how large the world was outside of Hasetsu and she'd been homesick for a few weeks. She missed not having her friends and family close by to support her. She missed Victor—her little poodle that she'd named after her idol.

It helped that she wasn't the only foreigner in this country.

There was her old roommate and friend, a conservatory student named Ketty. She was another international student, one from Georgia. (Yūri had skated in the international scene long enough to recognize that Ketty was from the country, not the state in America. It was a fact that flew over most Americans' heads and made those outside America laugh at the country's ignorance.) But now that she was no longer a student, Yūri had no choice but to move out of the dorm she shared with Ketty and in with a fellow rink mate competing in pairs'.

There was Phichit, a fellow skater who came from Thailand to train under Celestino. They'd gotten along well and Phichit sometimes complained that he wanted her as a roommate instead of the speed skater he was assigned. The dorms were insistent on same-gender roommates, even if opposite genders were willing to take a blood oath to not mess around with each other.

And then there was Yuan He Long. Back then, he was one of many classmates that she barely interacted with, in and out of classes. Sometimes she saw him navigating the campus on roller blades or on a bike, but that was it.

Then one day, Phichit asked her to come with him to drop off something his roommate had forgotten to take with him to practice. At the time, she only knew that the Thai skater's roommate was, in Phichit's words, "a speed skating fashion snob" who occasionally got on his nerves. So when they reached the rink where his room mate trained, Yūri had fully expected to meet the self-centered skater Phichit made his room mate out to be. She did not expect to see her rollerblading classmate skating impossibly fast out on the ice like he was born on it.

He Long hadn't expected her either, since he lost the curve while turning and wiped out several skaters along with himself when he saw her.

When they got together, Phichit called He Long a "lucky bastard" and the nickname stuck ever since. Yūri wondered why the same never applied to her. To this day, Yūri still had no idea what drew He Long to her. They were practically opposites. He Long was a speed skater, Yūri was a figure skater. He grew up in bustling Shanghai, the largest city in China, and she was from a small seaside town in Japan. He had style, he had flair... he was confident. He didn't turn into a blubbering mess at the smallest things, like she did.

Yet the day he asked if she wanted to go on a date with him showed a very different side to the confident speed skater she knew then as a classmate.

Yūri sprinted up the steps of the skating club and through the doors. She panted as she stopped to catch her breath. It didn't occur to her that she should have moved to the side until someone collided with her from behind. She fell to the floor, followed by the culprit shortly after. "Phichit?"

"Sorry, Yūri!" Phichit apologized as he got up and helped pull Yūri to her feet. The Thai skater was a mess, like he'd just run from a cheetah or like He Long had skated rings around him. "I overslept and I tried to get here as fast as I could and now Ciao Ciao's going to lay into us!"

Celestino didn't lay into them like Phichit was afraid of. He did, however, assign them to the workout room for an hour before he would allow them on the ice like Yūri suspected he would. While Yūri rarely arrived late to practice, on the occasions that she did, Celestino sent her to the workout room every time. For an hour she would be alone, sometimes with another person who arrived late, in a room to lift weights as she tried to ignore the shame that threatened to devour her insides.

Yūri pulled a T-shirt over her head before she met with her fellow inmate in the weight room. Instead of finding him working out, she found him searching through his phone with a dark expression. "Did you fight with your new roommate again?" she asked, having recognized the look Phichit would get whenever he complained about his roommate. Before the changes that December brought, that had been He Long, and her now long-distance boyfriend used to irk Phichit in some way to make the Thai look irritated.

"That jerk didn't bother to wake me up when he came," Phichit grumbled, locking his phone. "He just came in and went back out immediately. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually want the Shanghai Jerk back."

"You know he has to get ready for Dresden and Dordrecht," Yūri reminded as she stretched. "He has to make up for missing Shanghai."

"What's there to make up for?" Phichit set his phone aside and joined her in their warm-up stretches. "Even if he gets on the podium in Dresden and Dordrecht, he might not be an overall winner when the World Cup is over."

* * *

 **Tutorial**

"Let's pause the story for a sec, okay?" A chibi version of Phichit wearing a hamster costume said as a chibi version of Yūri brought out a chalkboard and began to write down several cities around the world under the heading 'Short Track Speed Skating World Cup'. "Now remember, kids! The only reason we know this much about speed skating is because the Shanghai jerk was my roommate and is Yūri's boyfriend, the lucky bastard," he added under his breath.

"But first you should know that there are two sports that are called speed skating," Chibi Yūri added, flipping the blackboard. On the opposite side were drawings of two ovals, one of which was much larger and engulfed the other. "The main difference is the size of the rink they skate on and how many skaters are allowed on the ice at a given time. The sport skated on a rink that's almost the size of an athletic track is more often referred to as speed skating, though it's also called long track speed skating. In long track, races are held in pairs. Its sister sport, short track speed skating, takes place on a smaller track that's typically the size of a hockey rink and more than two skaters can be found on the rink at once. Short track is what He Long competes in."

"But why are there two sports? Why doesn't Long compete in _long_ track?" Chibi Phichit asked, pressing a small finger to his cheek. "Who knows, who cares! Anyway~The Short Track Speed Skating World Cup is a series of races held over several set distances measured in meters: 500, 1000, 1500, 3000, and then there's the team relay events. Three thousand meters for women while men skate five thousand. Skaters earn points at each competition and the one with the most points on a given distance at the end of the World Cup is the overall champion."

"The World Cup takes place in six different cities all over the world and speed skaters typically skate at all of the events, assuming they make it past the qualifying rounds" Chibi Yūri said, flipping the blackboard to show the names of the cities where the World Cup events were being held or were held already. "This year, we have Montreal, Toronto, Nagoya, Shanghai, Dresden, and Dordrecht. But He Long sprained his ankle in the middle of the World Cup and he ended up not being to return home to compete."

"He still could have gone to visit his family there," Chibi Phichit corrected. "But because the Shanghai event took place at the same time as the Grand Prix Final, the lucky bastard decided he'd rather surprise his lucky lady when she won bronze in Sochi!"

"Phichit!" Chibi Yūri squeaked.

* * *

 **Detroit Skating Club**

"He Long wants to see the World Cup through to the end," Yūri said as she set up the leg press.

"Well—" Phichit jumped up and grabbed the pull-up bar. "—even if he's not the overall champion this season, he's still got a bunch of medals. If you ask me," he added as he hoisted his body up until his chin was over the bar, "anyone could do speed skating. All you have to do is be faster than everyone else and try not to cause a wipeout."

"The last time you said that, He Long skated rings around you," Yūri pointed out.

"Ugh." Phichit hung from the bar, a disgruntled expression on his face. "You just had to remind me, Yūri," he grumbled.

"A lot of work goes into maintaining that kind of speed. And you have to maneuver past everyone ahead of you to get the first position."

Phichit looked aghast at her words, like Yūri had just confessed that she committed murder. "Oh, no—tell me that jerk didn't corrupt you when we made that bet about who had the harder sport."

Before Yūri had gotten together with He Long, he and Phichit had a small disagreement about whose sport was more difficult. Yūri, of course, took her rink mate's side. The three of them ended up trying each other's sports for a while with their coaches' permissions. Phichit had laughed whenever He Long over-rotated, stepped out of, or flubbed his jumps at the Detroit Skating Club. He Long responded in kind by comparing Phichit to a snail when the figure skaters were on his ice. They weren't as fast as the rest of He Long's rink mates, but Yūri had been able to hold the curve and sneak to the front of the pack as well as most of them. That didn't stop her thighs from punishing her the morning after day one.

In the end, there was no clear winner. That didn't mean they didn't pick up something from each other's sports. He Long's coach had seen a definite improvement in how the Chinese fashion student managed his passes and turns. Yūri, on the other hand, became consistent in getting all the rotations into her triple jumps. Celestino had been overjoyed, but that quickly turned to shock when she started over-rotating and stepping out more often than she did before the bet was made.

Phichit made a noise that sounded like he was on the verge of screaming. "I can't believe I corrupted my own best friend by introducing her to a _speed skater_! Of all people! I'm a horrible person!" he wailed with each pull-up.

"You were his roommate for how long and you still hate him?" Yūri asked incredulously.

"Not hate," Phichit corrected, grunting with his next pull-up. "He just got on my nerves. A lot. And the only thing I'll ever like about having that snob as a roommate were the Korean skincare products his mother sent him."

Yūri laughed weakly. "They were that great?"

"They were the best!" he gushed.

* * *

After an hour had passed and Phichit and Yūri had cooled down from their workout, Celestino had finally forgiven them for showing up late by sending a message through their group chat to hit the ice. He pulled Phichit aside to talk to him before the Thai skater could set a foot on the ice.

Yūri kept her gaze on the ice as she skated figures, squinting to see each curve that she carved. Hardly any skater today knew what figures were, unless their coaches had competed during the time they were a required component. Ever since she started skating, Yūri skated figures to warm up and relax. The last part helped her a bit whenever a competition was coming up and with the Four Continents Championship in a few weeks, it would take more than five minutes of figures for her to appease the anxiety that tried to consume her.

Yūri jolted when she felt a heavy hand fall on her shoulder. She whirled around, shoulders falling slightly when she saw a young man with brown hair behind her. "Coach Celestino is calling you," he explained, cocking his head in their coach's direction, where he was indeed waving Yūri over to the rink boards.

"Th-thanks, Giles." Yūri skated away as fast as she could, hoping she didn't look too eager to get away. Giles was Phichit's new roommate, but the Thai skater knew him for longer since they were both new skaters at the club when they arrived about two years ago. As a pair skater, Giles had come with his partner, who was Yūri's new roommate. She'd gotten along with Venus, though Yūri would admit she was a little scared of her at first.

Venus' partner, on the other hand, made Yūri uncomfortable. Giles would frequently offer to join her during fitness training and invade her personal space like he belonged there. When that happened, Venus had to drag her partner by the ear and tell him off. When she started dating He Long, Giles seemed to back off, though he would try to strike up a conversation with her.

"You wanted to see me, coach?" Yūri linked her fingers together as she stood before Celestino, separated by the rink boards.

"I want to talk to you about the technical elements of your free skate." Celestino gestured for her to come closer so she could see the notepad he held in his hand. Yūri leaned over to read the jumps he had written down and crossed out. The step sequence and choreographic sequence were already accounted for, but Celestino seemed to have trouble deciding on her new jump composition. She was fine keeping her jumps as it was, but Celestino didn't share her views.

"A Triple Axel-Triple Lutz?" she read. Axels and Lutzes had the highest base values, but the Lutz jump was one she had trouble with. One would think that since she could do a Triple Axel, the Triple Lutz should be no problem.

Celestino thought along those lines as well. "Why not? You can already do a Triple Axel and landing this in combination will raise your technical score."

"But I always land wrong on my Lutzes," Yūri reasoned. No matter how many rotations she got into a Lutz jump, she had a habit of landing on the wrong foot or edge, which turned her intended Lutzes into toe loops or even earned an edge violation.

"Then we'll work on it," Celestino said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. "The rotations are taken care of. Now we just need to make sure you hold the—Giles!" he shouted. Yūri turned around to see Giles and a dark-skinned girl who was glaring daggers at the young man standing in the middle of the rink while she rubbed her lower back. "Were you _trying_ to kill Venus?! What were you thinking, dropping her like that?"

The pair skaters immediately raised their voices, each trying to make themselves heard over the other. They almost reminded Yūri of the seagulls back home in Hasetsu, except the seagulls didn't swear each other out like Giles and Venus were doing now.

"Both of you, get off the ice!" Celestino roared over the duo.

Yūri scurried away as the furious pair skaters skated over and jammed their blade guards on before meeting with an equally irate Celestino. She joined Phichit on the other side of the rink. Neither of them could hear the conversation, but they could still keep an eye on the event. "Do you know what happened?" she asked.

"They were doing a lift," Phichit explained as he skated a Mohawk turn. "I don't know which one it was, but Giles looked like he wasn't even trying to hold the position. As soon as he lifted her, he practically threw Venus."

"So a throw jump?"

The Thai skater shook his head. "They weren't in the position for it." Phichit glanced at the other side of the rink. "They've been fighting a lot more recently." As if to prove his point, the pairs skaters' voices rose to the point that they could catch pieces of what was being shouted.

"—this irresponsible flirt—!"

"—she's too heavy—!"

"—weak-ass with the arms of a noodle—!"

"—both of you—!"

Yūri swallowed nervously. It was a known fact that in pairs and ice dancing, both skaters needed to work together. If Giles and Venus were fighting, their performance would no doubt be affected. "I just hope they can work it out by the Four Continents."

"I'm hoping they'll make the podium," Phichit added as he cast a furtive look where he knew Celestino was before unlocking his phone. "Maybe it'll stop their problems."

* * *

When Yūri returned to her apartment, it didn't surprise her that Venus was already there. The pair skater looked up from the pot she was stirring. "Hey, Yūri," she greeted as she turned off the stove.

"Hi, Venus." Yūri shut the door behind her. The memory of her rink mate giving her partner the most hateful glare she had ever seen terrified Yūri. And here she was, making dinner without so much of a grumble about her day or her partner. She wondered how long it took for Venus to make dinner this time. Dinner always got done faster if Venus cooked when she was furious about something. Yūri had learned this soon after she had moved in.

"I made jambalaya," Venus said as she scooped out a bowl for Yūri.

The Japanese skater accepted the bowl and sat down. "Are you okay?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course I am," Venus replied nonchalantly as she served herself a heaping scoop. "Why wouldn't I be?" Before Yūri could open her mouth, Venus continued, "Oh, you mean what happened at the club today."

"You guys have been fighting a lot lately," Yūri explained.

Venus sat across from her with a spoonful of flavored rice in her mouth. "He's a fucking bastard," she said. Yūri knew Venus for a few years and just recently became her roommate, but she still wasn't used to hearing profanity come out so freely. "He's so stuck-up, acting like I'm not following his lead—when I _clearly_ am—and completely ignoring the fact that he doesn't follow the choreography at all." They both took in another spoonful at the same time, but Venus finished hers quickly to add, "With the attitude he's got, he should have just gone into singles!"

"Did Celestino do anything?"

"He just told us to get our act together for the Four Continents." Venus lifted her spoon to her mouth. "Oh, _I'll_ behave, but if that boy can't do the same, I won't have any problem if we don't make the podium," she muttered darkly. "The cocky asshole deserves to be knocked down."

"But...won't Giles blame you if you two don't get a medal?" Yūri asked worriedly.

Venus set her bowl down and planted her elbows on the table while she rested her chin on her hands. She gave Yūri a vague smile. "Yūri...I'm happy that you care about me enough to worry. But you don't need to. I've been skating with that idiot for years. I know exactly how to deal with this."

* * *

After dinner, Venus did the dishes while Yūri retreated to her room to make a long overdue phone call. Given the thirteen hour difference, the person she was calling should be awake by now. "Hello?" A woman's voice answered lazily.

"Hello, Mari? It's me."

"Yūri!" Her older sister sounded much more awake now. Yūri felt guilty, thinking that she might have woken her sister up. "About time you called!"

"I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked, sitting down at her desk.

"Nah, don't worry about it. You know we get up early to get breakfast ready, anyway." Yūri could hear shuffling sounds, like her sister was moving things around. Maybe she was preparing a room for a guest? "So how's Detroit, now that you graduated?"

"It's great not having homework anymore," Yūri answered. "But it does feel different now that He Long went back to China."

"Your speed skating boyfriend?" Mari questioned. Yūri nodded before realizing that her sister couldn't see her and made an affirmative noise. "When the season's over, you should visit us. And bring him over, too. I wanna see what this guy's like."

"Don't make it obvious that you're going to kill him," Yūri laughed weakly.

Her sister snorted. "I'm not gonna hurt your first boyfriend, baby sis. I'm just gonna take him around town, ask a couple things, then come back when he's cold and pale and—" The sound of a dog barking and jingling noises made Mari stop. "Hang on, I'm gonna turn on FaceTime."

"All right." Yūri pulled the phone away from her ear and tapped on the FaceTime icon. The familiar faces of her older sister and her dog flooded her screen, behind them the comfortable setting of the hot spring inn. "Vicchan!"

The miniature poodle barked excitedly as he sniffed Mari's phone, pressing his nose to the screen and leaving marks. "I missed you! Who's a good boy? Were you a good boy?" Vicchan yapped in agreement as he pawed at Mari's phone.

"He misses you a lot," Mari said, holding Vicchan to her body so that the poodle couldn't smudge her phone screen. "He still sleeps in your room, thinking that you're just going to sleep late."

"Aww..." Yūri laid her head on her desk. "I promise I'll come visit after the World Championships. How does that sound?" Vicchan yipped in response. Yūri blinked as a notice appeared on her phone.

"What's up?" Mari asked.

"Someone else is trying to call me." Yūri was already given the options to end her current call, place it on hold, or refuse to speak to— "He Long?"

"Your boyfriend?" Immediately Vicchan made a tiny growl, making Mari snicker lightly. "I don't think he likes your boyfriend."

"Don't say that, Vicchan. You'll love him." Yūri's thumb hovered over the icons, unsure of what to do. "Do you mind if I take this call, Mari?"

"No problem. I gotta get back to work." Mari lifted one of Vicchan's paws and made a waving motion with it. "Say bye-bye, Vicchan." The tiny poodle began whining and struggling. "Night, little sis."

"Good-bye, Mari. Bye, Vicchan." The last thing she saw of her childhood home was Mari laughing as Vicchan started howling. A menu of icons appeared, indicating that He Long had opted for a normal phone call instead of FaceTime. Yūri held her phone up to her ear. "Hi, He Long."

"Hey, Yūri. Quick question: did you tell a Minami Kenjirō about me?"

"Minami? He asked me if I could ask you to design for him." Yūri tilted her head in confusion. She had relayed Kenjirō's message to He Long in late December. It had almost been a month since then, so why was He Long asking about her fellow countryman now? "Did something happen?"

"No," He Long replied. "Well, he did send me a message saying that he would take the next flight to China, language barrier be damned, and break my shins if I so much as made you cry."

"Oh...Oh!" Suddenly, Yūri was back in Sapporo, where she had given Kenjirō her autograph and the boy had offered to beat up He Long for her. "I thought he was bluffing!"

"What did he say to you?"

"At the nationals," Yūri said, holding her other cheek, "he asked if he could beat you up if you were ever mean."

"Well, he's gutsy. I'll give him that." He Long laughed on the other end. "How's Detroit? Even better, how's Phichit? Is he glad that I'm out of his hair?"

"Well, I'm not sure about that..." Yūri admitted. "He did say that you were a better roommate than his new one."

Yūri jolted when she heard the sound of a large weight falling to the floor, followed by uncontrollable laughter. From the sound of it, He Long had fallen with a case of hysterical giggling. "You mean it?" He Long gasped between laughs. "Phichit Chulanont, the makeup artist who can't put on the right shade of eyeshadow for his life, actually _misses_ me?"

"Only because you're better compared to Giles."

"Giles?" He Long repeated. "Giles, Giles...Oh, you mean that overbearing American pair skater with anger issues and the ridiculous last name."

"That's him."

"And you're rooming with his partner, Venus? Loud and proud, biracial African American whose family moved from Flint—which is _still_ a mess, those irresponsible American politicians—"

"Yup." Sometimes, Yūri wondered how He Long recalled details like he was profiling the victim or criminal of a crime report.

"That kind of thing doesn't fly at all in Asia!"

"Maybe not all of Asia, but what about China?" When she was met with silence, Yūri quickly realized what she had said. "I-I'm sorry, it just came out and—"

"No, you're right. I just forgot," He Long interrupted as a sound on his end made Yūri think he had set a chair upright and sat down again. "But China actually recognizes the problem. Flint, however, still makes its citizens pay for polluted water that no one in their right mind would ever use. I mean, is it really too much to replace a bunch of faulty pipes?"

"Wasn't that what you said during a debate night when you were still here?" Yūri recalled.

"Yeah, and I won."

"You blew everyone out of the water," she continued, biting her lip to keep from giggling. The first time Yūri went to a college debate night was with Phichit, and she had been amazed—and slightly terrified—by what went down. Competitors hurled facts and reasoning like insults and each answer was brutally attacked until the person who gave the answer was either a blubbering mess or a screaming brat.

Basically, the objective was to see who could go the longest without becoming either of those two and it was all done in the name of a pricey gift card to be used anywhere. It was amazing what college students would do for money. "I still remember Venus tearing into everyone about how sending bottled water to her hometown was a joke. She was just as scary when I asked you out."

"Why? What did she do to you?" Yūri asked.

She briefly registered the sound of scratching, like He Long was contemplating an answer and how to avoid it as well.

"How is Venus, anyway?" He Long asked mildly. Yūri's eyebrows rose in concern.

"Well…I don't think I have any right to say it."

"Let's see…her GPA dropped?" He guessed.

"No."

"She argued with Celestino and Giles about the music again?"

"…No." But that _was_ something Venus did very often. Usually Celestino picked out their music according to their themes for the year, but Venus would pick out her own music for hers and Giles' theme as well. Yūri wondered if today's fight had been about that.

"No? But I sound close. Did she and Giles get into a fight?"

Yūri sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

"They've been fighting a lot this season."

"Mhm," she murmured.

"Did Phichit set up the betting pool yet?"

"Long!" Yūri cried, shocked by how easily her boyfriend could turn her rink mates' situation into a game.

"With the way they've been going before I left, I'm betting that they'll split by the end of the season."

"Are you betting dollar or yuan, He Long?"

Yūri heard a loud smack on the other end, as though He Long had slapped a palm to his face. "Yūri...Yūri, I love you, but could you _please_ let that joke die already?"

"Sorry," Yūri said, guilty that she didn't feel sorry at all. "How are things in your rink?"

"My rink mates are happy that I'm back in the country," He Long replied. "And with Dresden coming up in a few weeks, the national coach is working us to the bone. Says that we stand a good chance since Viktor's not competing."

"But weren't you sad that he wasn't competing?"

"...Yes," He Long admitted, sounding like a kicked puppy. "I mean, I was hoping to see him on the live broadcast of the European Championships, but he wasn't in any of the lineups."

"Europeans—? Oh! I keep forgetting that short track's European Championships are right before figure skating Europeans." With how closely their sports' European Championships were scheduled—figure skating's started a day after short track speed skating's ended—Yūri almost lost track of dates.

"Yeah, and _your_ Viktor's competing."

"Don't say it like that!" Yūri stammered. She knew that He Long had said that to differentiate the athletes named Viktor in their individual sports, but _her_ Viktor? That just made it sound like her current relationship was nonexistent and she was dating Viktor Nikiforov.

Which would be _impossible_. What would Viktor Nikiforov want with her, dime-a-dozen female figure skater from Japan? Just being near him had made Yūri feel inadequate. At the banquet in Sochi, she couldn't even bring herself to look him in the eye.

"You know what I meant," He Long said. "And you don't hear me blubbering like you whenever I say 'my Viktor'."

"That's because you know Viktor Ahn is married and has a daughter. And Viktor Nikiforov—"

"—is the exact opposite? A known playboy who can't seem to settle down?"

"He's a legend!" she blurted. While He Long was correct, that didn't mean she liked hearing him make Viktor Nikiforov out to be some heart-breaker.

"So is Viktor Ahn," He Long pointed out.

"Yes, but..." Yūri curled the fingers of her free hand as she tried to put her thoughts into words. "Well...Viktor Ahn is a legend in your sport, but at least you've won enough to stand on even ground with him. Me? To Viktor Nikiforov, I'm just...nothing."

"I wouldn't say that," he finally said. Yūri lifted her head hopefully. "H—" He Long paused, making Yūri tilt her head in confusion before she heard him hiss something in Chinese. Yūri was prepared to bet that what she heard—and most likely would never be able to repeat, owing to the complexity of the Chinese language—was something far from polite.

"What happened?"

"I need to get to practice," He Long answered. Yūri could hear him moving around. "I didn't realize we had talked for so long."

Yūri pulled her phone away from her ear to see that, to her surprise, they had talked for almost twenty minutes. "I'm so sorry—!"

"No, no, don't. I should have kept track of time. Let's see...I don't live too far from the oval, so I can make it in time."

"Good luck in the World Cup!" Yūri encouraged.

"Tha—" He Long paused again, as though he had forgotten to grab something. "I don't need luck. I have you!" Those were his last words before the call ended, allowing Yūri to lower her phone.

"What's so lucky about me?" she asked.


	6. A King in Distress

**Apparently I wasn't the only one to be on break. My inspiration took a vacation as well.**

* * *

{Picture: Viktor Nikiforov in center, Christophe Giacometti on left, Georgi Popovich on right}

 **European Championship Ends in Russian Victory**

Russia's Viktor Nikiforov, 27, has never failed to disappoint in what some speculated to be his last season. His performances make many doubt that he will retire anytime soon.

Nikiforov's rink mate, Georgi Popovich, joined him on the podium with the bronze medal after a scuffle with Christophe Giacometti over silver.

* * *

Yakov did not react well to his suggestion of Hellfire as music for either of his programs. In fact, the aged coach had launched into a tirade of reasons as to why it was _not_ an appropriate song to skate to at all.

That had never stopped Viktor before.

So what if he still had half a year to "get it out of his system", as Yakov had put it? He had the same amount of time to decide his short program and his theme as well.

With the way things were going, Eros was going to become his short program and next year's theme would probably be either "possession" or "greed".

"You know, there are other more fitting songs to skate to than _'Hellfire'_ ," a voice said on his right. Viktor looked over to Chris, who plopped himself down on the bench with him. "But you never were the subtle type, were you?"

"Shouldn't you be rehearsing for the exhibition tonight?" Viktor asked as the Swiss took a drink from his water bottle.

"I'm bored of my exhibition," Chris sighed with a sad note. "But then I heard your rink mate mention you skating to Hellfire. I couldn't tell if he was serious or joking, but I can't let you outshine me at the gala with that."

Many people would have been quick to correct Chris that the gala wasn't a contest. That it was supposed to be a fun time without the pressure of performing better than anyone. What many people didn't know was that even in the gala exhibition, figure skaters were still trying to outdo each other in terms of who was perfect, who was outrageous, and who could send their coach to the hospital due to shock. (That category was a toss-up between Viktor and Emil Nekola of the Czech Republic.) Nevertheless, Viktor could only offer a shrug to the king of the unspoken gala champion.

"Really, if you're considering Hellfire, you must be that infatuated or you must hate the fact that you're so infatuated," the Swiss continued. "So tell me: who is Esmeralda?"

Viktor was rather reluctant to open his mouth because just thinking about the woman who haunted his mind also dredged up unwanted thoughts of her lover. The speed skater from China who shouldn't have been able to come her way. Yet there they were, and here he was, wanting a woman who was clearly off-limits. Was it so bad that he felt like this? Things that were deemed untouchable always made them more desirable.

This, however, was the first time that wanting the forbidden sickened him, as if all the other forbidden fruits he had ever indulged upon finally caught up to punish him. Was it because he knew that what he wanted now would always be out of his reach? Or because what he desired was near yet guarded closely so that he could never approach?

Chris seemed to take notice of his lack of response and his eyes widened. "Oh." The Swiss smirked as he leaned closer and whispered, "Does this have anything to do with the little Japanese lady who invited you to dance in Sochi?"

By now, it was pointless to say otherwise. On the ice, Chris could accept the loss of gold with grace. But in terms of gossip, he was relentless. Christophe Giacometti had dirt on just about everyone skating in the international circuit. If he didn't, then one way or another he would find out and—by _God_ —he was a bloodhound for gossip. If Chris put as much effort into stealing the gold from Viktor as he did in collecting blackmail material, he would be the reigning champion by now.

But Chris didn't need a verbal confirmation from Viktor, not when silence told him more. Chris laughed as he abruptly smacked Viktor's back, knocking the wind out of him. "I can already see her face when she learns that you have a crush on her! She'll be as red as the borscht you eat, Vitya!"

It wasn't too hard to visualize the woman who plagued his mind with a face as red as a beet. Back in Sochi, Yūri Katsuki had been various shades of red, many of which Viktor could associate with discomfort. Which was why he answered with certainty, "I don't think she'll be ecstatic about that."

Chris cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "No? But I know she had a crush on you." At this, Viktor couldn't help but feel hopeful. Until Chris brought it all crashing down in one sentence. "When I was in Juniors, half the girls in singles had a crush on you."

Viktor felt something in him plummet. Of course the girls during Chris' time as a Junior had a crush on him. So did the female fans who cheered him on at every competition; the girls who pushed and shoved for a chance to come near him at the end; who all professed their love for him. And all Viktor gave them in return for their love was a smile and a thank you and a commemorative photo.

That was all he would give. Because he knew that the love they gave him wouldn't last. That their 'love' was merely a mislabeled admiration that would vanish if he so much as slipped up and revealed that he was by no means the perfect being they saw him as.

While Viktor had felt happy for a brief moment that Yūri Katsuki had had a crush on him during her Junior years, she had most certainly outgrown it by now. "She already has a boyfriend."

Chris made a noise that sounded like it was meant as a scoff but came out a parched laugh. The Swiss reached for his water bottle again. "So? Has that ever stopped you from getting what you want?" Chris tossed his head back as he took several gulps of water. Viktor watched as his best friend's eyes opened abruptly, filling with confusion before widening in shock as he choked on his next gulp. Water spewed and heads turned as the Russian thumped the hacking Swiss' back.

When Chris regained control of his lungs, he cleared his throat before taking another drink. The second he swallowed, Chris' head spun towards Viktor. _"Vraiment? Yūri a un petit ami?"_

As figure skaters skating in the international circuit, knowing more than one language came as a boon, especially when one was conducting an interview and an interpreter had yet to arrive. French had been the first foreign language Viktor learned, though he later gave into Yakov's request to learn English. So Viktor understood every word of what Chris had said, but the news of Yūri Katsuki's boyfriend must have shocked him that much if the Swiss had relapsed into French.

" _Oui_ ," Viktor replied in the same language.

Chris grabbed Viktor by the front of his jacket and practically shook him. "Tell me now, Vitya!" he begged. "Who is the lucky one? Who? Who!"

"Chris! Get a hold of yourself!" Viktor held his friend's wrists to make him stopped shaking him. The Russian knew that the Swiss already had a lover back home. Why was he so interested in Yūri's boyfriend? "You met him already at the banquet in Sochi. He was the speed skater."

Chris' grip on his jacket slackened, jaw dropping in awe. "The _speed skater_? She is dating that speed skater?" he said incredulously. The Swiss slowly let go of the Russian and rested his chin on a palm, staring at the ice dazedly. "Wow…" he mumbled.

"Is it really that surprising?" Viktor wondered. "A woman as beautiful as her should have had plenty of boyfriends in the past."

Chris looked at him again, looking pleasantly amused while a corner of his mouth twitched. The Swiss turned in the opposite direction and roared in laughter, once again drawing attention to themselves as Chris then fell off the bench. Laughter then became short breaths as he tried to calm himself. "Oh, Vitya…" he finally gasped. "You really do have it bad…"

"Oh?" Viktor replied with a smile of his own, hoping that his expression would make Chris forget Viktor's earlier annoyance when the Swiss found a joke in his words. "You seem to know more than I do, Chris. Do you mind sharing?"

Chris ran a hand over his face, stroking over his stubbly chin. He looked like he was deep in thought, or maybe he was trying to recall something from his younger years. He would have looked like a wise man if it weren't for the fact that he was still on the floor with only his calves on the bench. Instead he resembled a lovesick man, except that was what Viktor was and Chris was supposed to be the friend who gave reliable but dubious advice. "Since she was a girl, I only ever met her during the galas and the banquets. But…I do remember that Yūri…when we were still Juniors, she was…how do I say…" Chris seemed to struggle with his words as he rubbed his fingers together, as though that would spark the words he was looking for. "…not brave," he decided with a reluctant expression.

"You mean she's shy?" Viktor suggested.

"Yes!" Chris clapped his hands together, beaming. "She is shy! Yūri is never one to take the lead. But the banquet…" The Swiss heaved himself up by his legs, grunting as he returned to his spot on the bench. "I've never seen her like that before."

"She's probably changed from her Junior years."

Chris nodded in consideration. "Perhaps…but I'm willing to bet that the speed skater made the first move and Yūri couldn't bring herself to say no. Though I can't really blame her. Have you seen _the thighs_ on those speed skaters?" The Swiss skater licked his lips, most likely imagining a speed skater's best… _assets_.

Viktor stifled a laugh as he tried to ignore the urge to roll his eyes. "Moving on from their thunder thighs—"

"I mean, that ass on the Dutch at the Olympics—" Chris paused as though he realized how inappropriate his monologue was in public, making Viktor laugh at the impossibility. Christophe Giacometti had no shame. Whatever dignity he had left was likely to be microscopic. And that shred of dignity could not have made Chris stop his thorough description of a speed skater's physique and furrow his brow as though he realized how wrong he was. "How did the speed skater get that close to Yūri?" he asked, turning to Viktor. "Is he a pen pal?"

"At the banquet, she said that they attend the same college," Viktor said, blinking at the abrupt change in topic.

Chris nodded slowly with an uncertain look in his eyes. "So he's an American."

"He's skating for China."

"Is he?" Chris whipped out his phone and unlocked it. "You seem to have done some research on him, Vitya," he added, wiggling his eyebrows at Viktor.

"Only for the same reason you are."

Chris only hummed as he read over what he had found on the Chinese speed skater. Whatever it was had to have been something to him if it made the Swiss' eyebrows rise until they vanished into his hairline. "…This is not possible," he murmured with a shake of his head. Chris locked his phone as he held his chin. "How in the world...?"

"Something wrong?" Viktor asked.

"There's no way he should have been able to get near her," Chris said as he narrowed his eyes. "Speed skaters don't have the luxury of changing their home rinks as easily as us. They have to stay within their country."

"He returned to China just last month."

"I know that." The Swiss skater stared at his phone as though it had offended him in some way. "But what worries me is what he was doing to Yūri in Detroit."

* * *

With the evening came the gala exhibition, bringing with it the figure skaters in all of their unrestrained glory. Competition dulled most of the fun in skating while the gala revived it. As the gold medalist, Viktor would be last to skate.

And there he was, waiting in the darkness until the lights turned on where he stood in the center of the ice. He skated slowly, as though he were reflecting on his sins. And Viktor had plenty of things to reflect on.

Wanting a marked woman—one who was clearly forbidden to him—was a prime example.

Viktor had plenty of relationships in the past—strike that, he had connections but none of them ever lasted or made him feel content enough to qualify as a relationship. He could snap his fingers and have anyone he wanted at his side, but they would never truly have his heart.

But now he wanted somebody. Not as a short fling to be forgotten, but as a permanent fixture in his life. Somebody who he could trust his heart with as readily as many others had shoved theirs into Viktor's hands for him to have.

And that…that _terrified_ him. At the same time he wanted Yūri Katsuki to be his, _she_ terrified him. How could she have that great a hold over him? How could she make him want to hold her in his arms and never let her go?

 _"'No matter what, Yūri will **always** return to me.'"_

Viktor gritted his teeth at the unwelcome intrusion within his mind. Was it because of him? Was it because of that arrogant declaration of Yūri's loyalty that he wanted her? Had Viktor desired Yūri Katsuki not to have _her_ , but to prove that pretentious speed skater wrong? If that were true, then Viktor should have felt nothing towards her.

But he did. Viktor wanted to know that loyalty for himself, even though Yūri would have to betray her current lover in order for Viktor to have a taste. The speed skater taunted him by using her as the bait, but Yūri had been the one to ensnare him with her own charm. The banquet in Sochi had set his blood ablaze, an inferno that would consume him if he didn't have her.

It wasn't fair! The only reason the speed skater could be so arrogant was because he was young. With his haughty disposition, Yūri was probably his first love. Everyone thought that their first love would last forever. The Chinese man would probably fight tooth and nail just to keep her.

Viktor could only imagine how devastated the speed skater would be when he finally loses her.

Once his exhibition was finished, the audience began to clap. Among the applause were hollers and whistles that Viktor knew were from Chris. Speaking of the Swiss skater…

Viktor rose from his ending pose and gestured not just for Chris to join him, but everyone else. As the king of the ice, he had to invite everyone back to the rink to properly end the show. And they all came waving to the audience, some performing spins and even a pair skating couple demonstrating a lift.

Chris joined him at his hip, smirking with glee. "I can't believe you actually went through with that," Chris muttered as Emil Nekola performed two back flips in a row. Even in the darkness, Viktor could see that the audience had been on the edge of their seats after the first one.

"I can't believe the designer went through with _that_ ," Viktor said. " _That_ " happened to be Chris' exhibition costume, which would not have been out of place in a more, ahem, private setting. But Chris, the most lascivious skater that ever lived, hardly noticed the double takes from the officials and reporters. Not when he was enjoying the reactions from their fellow skaters. The male Crispino twin's flustered outburst was the most amusing by far.

Chris laughed. "Where do you get off trying to shame me? _You're_ the one who skated to a song about getting a boner over a girl!"

"And you're the one who skated to a song about getting laid!"

A pregnant pause hung in the air before the two doubled over with laughter. Chris held onto his shoulders unsteadily until his knees gave way and he dragged Viktor down onto the ice with him.

* * *

 **[EC Hellfire on Ice~Viktor Nikiforov EX]**

 **{Holy crap #european championships #gala #viktor nikiforov #hellfire}**

 **{is this 4 real? #ec gala #viktor nikiforov #hellfire}**

 **{Viktor Nikiforov just skated to hunchback of notre dame's hellfire. I'm dead. #ec gala #hunchback of notre dame #viktor nikiforov #hellfire }**

 **{A world class figure skater just skated to a song about getting a boner and i just can't anymore }**

 **{I can never watch The Hunchback of Notre Dame the same way again}**

 **{Are you complaining?}**

 **{Hell no! Viktor pulls off Hellfire better than Frollo}**

 **{He's better looking too }**

* * *

Yakov's face when he met him in the lobby with Georgi and Mila was far from pleased. His coach looked as though he had just discovered the smetana he'd meant to use for his borscht had gone rancid. Maybe it was because the lack of a certain Russian Fairy made Yakov believe Yuri was up to no good wherever he was. "You skated to Hellfire." The words came out of his mouth more like an accusation than a fact.

"I did," Viktor said pleasantly.

"And you didn't look like a fool." Yakov's face seemed to lose some of its edge, softening into an expression that resembled relief. "But that doesn't mean I'll allow you to skate to this again. You're going back to the exhibition we agreed upon for the World Championships, understand?"

Viktor hummed in consideration. If Yakov was annoyed by his response or lack thereof, he didn't show it as they prepared to leave the arena.

"He's shocked that you went through with it," Georgi said when they had fallen back enough that Yakov and Mila couldn't hear them. "Coach Yakov thought you were joking about Hellfire."

"Yakov should know by now that I take my music seriously," Viktor responded.

A hard kick to the back nearly knocked Viktor off of his feet, but the living legend regained his footing and walked on unfazed even as his youngest rink mate stalked alongside him. He'd thought that their group had seemed small earlier. Then he remembered that with most of his students in the lineups for Europeans, Yakov had refused to leave his Junior skater alone in Saint Petersburg. "Hello, Yura."

"What the hell was that, old man?" Yuri snarled, throwing a sideways glare.

"You shouldn't talk like that here, Yuri," Georgi warned as they hurried past some reporters who had their backs turned to them as they interviewed Chris.

"I wasn't talking to you, Georgi," the teenager snapped. Viktor slowed down as he looked at Georgi, jerking his head towards Mila and Yakov up ahead. Getting the message, Georgi picked up his pace and left the two alone.

"Well?"

"You mean my exhibition?" Viktor said with an amicable air as though they were discussing dinner. Scratch that, it was a horrible comparison because even then Yuri would claim he didn't care then proceed to complain before finally eating with reluctant satisfaction. Just like a cat. "I wanted to surprise the audience. It was quite dramatic, don't you think?"

"Dramatic?" Yuri scoffed. "It was disgusting. _Hellfire_ , old man? You looked like a creep!"

Viktor stopped and turned to face Yuri properly. Like this, he could see his anger and disgust coupled with the knowledge of who the program had been centered around; could see his hands shoved into his pockets in a near attempt to contain his own rage. "Are you actually worried about me?"

"Don't waste your breath, old man," Yuri growled, trying to make himself look bigger by stomping one foot into Viktor's personal space. "Not everybody cares about _you_."

"No, no," Viktor agreed, leaning forward with a smile on his face. "Some of us care about women who wouldn't even dream of giving little boys like you a second glance."

If he hadn't known Yuri so well—and if it hadn't been for Yūri's appearance at the Sochi Grand Prix Final—Viktor would never have been able to predict when to catch the hand that flew out in anger towards his face. As Yuri tried to pull his wrist from the older Russian's grip, Viktor took the chance to forcefully lower the boy's hand as a reporter came towards them. "You'll be going into the senior division next season. I would hate for you to start so poorly because you can't keep your anger in check, Yurotchka."

"Mister Nikiforov! Do you have a moment to talk about your exhibition?" Yuri jerked his hand away and Viktor turned to address the reporter. He registered the sound of Yuri walking away from him before the footsteps behind him stopped.

"At least _I'm_ not jealous because some fucking speed demon made fun of me!"

* * *

 **{Just saw Yuri Plisetsky screaming at Viktor Nikiforov after the EC gala}**

 **{Really? What for?}**

 **{Video or it never happened}**

 **{** [link] **i thought you'd say that}**

 **{...it's not english}**

 **{No duh. Yuri's screaming in Russian}**

 **{What's he saying?}**

 **{I can make out the words because, damn, and demon}**

 **{You're on the right track. He's saying that at least he's not jealous because some speed demon(?) made fun of him}**

 **{Speed demon?}**

 **{Who knows}**

* * *

 **In case you don't know, skaters both disciplines of speed skating have large glutes and quads since they use those muscles in their sports. So yes, Chris totally thinks Yūri is dating a speed skater for his thighs.**

 **Translations:**

 _Vraiment? Yūri a un petit ami?_ —Really? Yūri has a boyfriend?


	7. To Stay or To Leave

**[EC Hellfire on Ice~Viktor Nikiforov EX]**

 **{Guys, Hellfire was about Frollo's lust for Esmeralda. Since Viktor skated to this, he must be in love with someone}**

 **{He must have a really bad boner to have skated to Hellfire.}**

 **{Wtf. I came here for laughs and I find people wondering who's Nikiforov's next fling.}**

 **{Excuse me? This is a masterpiece and you think it's a joke?}**

 **{Well CLEARLY Nikiforov wouldn't skate Hellfire as a love confession. You know what happened to Frollo? Esmeralda rejected him because he was a creep in general.}**

 **{That's because Frollo was never as handsome as Viktor, you uncultured pig!}**

 **{Looks don't excuse the fact that Frollo tried to rape Esmeralda!}**

 **{No he doesn't!}**

 **{Read the book, uncultured swine!}**

 **{*sigh* can I just watch a video of Viktor without getting caught up in a fan war?}**

 **{Whoever he's got the hots for is a lucky girl}**

 **{It could be a guy}**

 **{Repeat after me: skating to a love song does NOT equal a love confession}**

 **{Repeat after me: Hellfire is NOT a love song}**

 **{Who wants to bet that Chris dared him to skate this?}**

* * *

Phichit barely held his laughter behind a wide grin as the music played. The thunderous notes of Hellfire, despite the lack of vocals that normally accompanied the orchestra, instilled fear in most of its listeners. In Yūri, it filled her with nostalgic fascination as Viktor slid across the ice on his knees with his face tilted towards the ceiling. As he slowed down the closer he got to the center, his hand extended like he was reaching for the sky before clenching into a fist with the final note.

"I can't believe he skated to Hellfire," Yūri murmured.

"Want me to play it again?" Even if he hadn't asked, Yūri knew that Phichit would replay the video. Whether it was to Yūri's astonishment or for his own enjoyment, she had no idea. (Maybe it was a mix of the two.)

Viktor stood alone on the ice, the spotlight on him being the only source of illumination in the dark arena. Then more lights stained the ice a pale blue as Viktor skated slowly. Like this, she could almost envision him as Frollo—a much younger and more handsome Frollo—ruminating as he paced before the fireplace, conflicted by his duty to God and his newfound feelings.

He spun across the ice, arm raised like a dancer's would in fourth position. The same arm lowered as his hand clutched at his heart like he'd been pierced. Then Viktor crossed his arms over his chest as if holding someone close to him.

The ice turned a faint orange shade as Viktor prepared to execute his signature quad flip. The second he landed, the orange hue deepened as the monks' began to chant. Viktor looked frantic, brandishing a hand opposite of where he faced like he was trying to remove some fault of his. (He had none, as far as Yūri knew.)

Yūri knew the song well enough. She'd heard it countless times, knew who the song was meant for, and knew the emotion that went into its delivery. Watching her idol skate to this, capturing Frollo's insane desire of Esmeralda perfectly was something else entirely. No matter what he skated to, he was beautiful. This…this was the first time his skating sparked terror in her.

She was sure that Phichit was humming along as Viktor whirled around, a mirror of Frollo in his rage. He gestured towards himself, like he was offering Esmeralda a choice. Phichit couldn't hold back his laughter anymore as Viktor used the same hand to grab his costume and pull at it, effectively tearing the front in two.

As Viktor skated slowly from the center of the rink, looking remorseful, he raised his head as though he were looking for divine forgiveness. He turned on his skate and glided forward, picking up enough speed that he could slide on his knees with his body parallel to the ice. One hand reached for the ceiling, the other slowing him down until he reached the center. Light stained the ice red as Viktor clenched his outstretched hand into a fist.

"Wow," was all Yūri could say as the video ended with applause.

"The comments are even better," Phichit wheezed, passing his phone to her. The Thai skater burst into another round of laughter that caused him to drop his phone, prompting Yūri to catch it as her friend fell off the bench.

Many people, like Yūri, couldn't believe that Viktor had actually skated to Hellfire. Some were amazed that Hellfire was actually pulled off. Others took the time to speculate that Viktor's peculiar choice of music meant that he was in love with somebody. "Hellfire isn't a love song," Yūri noted with a frown.

Phichit regained his breath enough to reach out to Yūri for his phone. "No," he agreed. "But if Frollo had looked anywhere near as good as Viktor, you think he would have had any problems getting Esmeralda?"

"Esmeralda hated Frollo because he was cruel to Quasimodo."

"I don't know, Yūri." Phichit wiggled his eyebrows in mischief. "If Viktor had been Frollo in your acting class, I bet you would have dropped Phoebus like a hot sweet potato," he teased.

"Phichit!" Yūri cried, face burning as Phichit doubled over at his own joke.

"Guys!" Yūri looked up as Venus skated to a halt at the rink boards. "Coach said break time's over."

"Already?"

"The Four Continents Championship is coming up. What do you expect?"

Yūri made a noise of agreement as she took off her skate guards. Like any coach, Celestino wanted to see his students do well. He also wanted to see them make it on to the podium.

For Venus, that meant solving her issues with Giles. Going by how quiet the rink was this morning, Yūri guessed that her friend had handled the matter like she promised.

For Phichit, it meant earning the first medal at an international figure skating championship for Thailand.

And for Yūri…that meant learning the Triple Axel-Triple Lutz combo like Celestino wanted. The first step to achieving that was to correct the foot she landed on.

The Four Continents was in two weeks. If it was in one, Yūri could have passed off the fluttering feeling in her chest as the pressure of competition.

So why was her heart pounding like crazy?!

Spread eagle into Triple Axel—Yūri landed her first jump easily and kicked her toe pick at the ice. Not only did she pop her triple into a single, she fell hard. Yūri hissed as she curled in on herself, though it would do nothing to ease the pain.

"Yūri!" The Japanese skater looked up to find Venus at her side, her hand extended for Yūri to grab so she could get up. Black spots danced in her eyes like falling ashes and as she tried to blink them away, Venus was gone. Viktor stood before her in his Hellfire costume.

Yūri blinked numbly as Viktor knelt down, wearing that smile that seduced women left and right. "Yūri…" he crooned, his voice oddly higher-pitched than it should have been. "Yūri!" This time, Yūri could recognize her friend's loud voice and remembered where she was. Yūri closed her eyes, focusing on her friend's voice as she grabbed a hand and blindly pulled herself up. "You okay?" She opened her eyes, relaxing when she saw Venus in front of her looking concerned.

"I—I'll be fine," Yūri stammered. She shook her head as she skated away. Yūri didn't remember hitting her head against the ice. It didn't hurt either. The black spots in her vision were gone and so was that hallucination of Viktor.

Yūri patted her cheeks, though it did little to cool her burning skin. She exhaled as she built up speed for her jump combo again. Unfortunately she was going too fast now and Yūri inwardly blamed her boyfriend for her speed problem. Ever since his bet with Phichit, Yuri was so fast in her programs that she sometimes had to improvise her choreography whenever she was ahead of the music. It was amazing how the judges never caught on.

At least her Triple Axel went off without a hitch, but Yūri knew that she over-rotated the second jump before she landed. What made it worse was that she made it a toe loop again.

She heard Phichit holler from his place on the ice. "That was amazing, Yūri!"

"It was a toe loop," Yūri pointed out, unable to understand what made Phichit cheer as though she landed the quad axel. "And I over-rotated."

Phichit skated towards her until he was close enough that Yūri could see the excitement on his face. "You really don't know what you did? You just landed a quad toe loop and you didn't even know?"

"I-I did?"

The Thai skater shook his head. "I'm gonna get my phone," he said. "Just try that jump combo again until I tell you to stop."

"Okay." They skated away from each other, with Yūri remaining on the ice while Phichit retrieved his phone.

"Ciao Ciao! Can you come watch?"

Yūri decided to count the rotations in her head as she went into her Axel. One…two…three…at the half mark, she landed on the outside edge of her other foot.

She kicked her toe pick into the ice for the Lutz jump. One…two…three…

"There you are!" The volume of Venus' bellow was enough to distract Yūri and make her flub her landing. She thought she heard Phichit groan, but the sound of her rink mates' raised voices joined by Celestino's efforts to calm them made her think she imagined it. "What's your excuse this time?!"

Yūri supposed it did seem too peaceful at the rink for once. She thought that Giles and Venus had finally settled their differences. Unfortunately, the temporary absence of conflict was due to the fact that Giles had apparently slept in.

* * *

"I swear you landed a quad toe loop today, Yūri!" Phichit insisted as Yūri set up the laptop. "And you would have landed the second quad if Venus hadn't yelled."

Yūri hummed in response. When practice was over, Phichit had showed her the video he had taken. True to his word, Yūri had rotated four times before she decked her landing at the moment Venus yelled at Giles.

Even though there was proof that she _could_ do a quad, could she actually _land_ it in competition? Yūri didn't always land her jumps, not like Sara and Mila did. She had been the only female skater at the Sochi Grand Prix to have the triple Axel and they _still_ placed ahead of her. Yūri figured that was why Celestino was so intent on her learning the triple Axel-triple Lutz combo.

The two stared at the laptop screen, waiting until the image of the Chinese short track speed skater appeared with a hand over his eyes as though he were in deep thought. "He Long?" Yūri said worriedly.

He Long removed his hand, looking tired. "Hey."

"Was practice that bad today, Long?" Phichit asked.

"No."

"So you didn't get injured again?"

"No."

"You're still going to the World Cup, aren't you?"

"Yes, Phichit, I am."

"Then what's wrong?" Yūri tried this time.

He Long sighed as he brought a knee up to his chest. "…My mother came to visit me in Shenyang," he said.

The Thai skater tilted his head. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"She brought my little sister with her."

"Is she there with you?" Yūri asked excitedly.

"So what's the problem?" Phichit wondered at the same time.

One of He Long's eyebrows twitched. "The problem? The problem? The problem is that everyone at the rink thought the kid was mine!"

"How old is your sister?"

"She's—" He Long paused to count on his fingers before he finally replied with, "—five months old."

Phichit gaped at He Long through the screen. Even Yūri fell silent as she remembered that He Long was twenty-one, due to turn twenty-two in three months. He Long was older than his little sister by two decades. No wonder his rink mates thought his sister was his daughter. The birth couldn't have been easy on his mother, either. "And…how old is your mother?" Yūri asked tentatively.

"She's forty."

Yūri's eyebrows rose up to her hairline at the same time Phichit screamed, "Your mother had you when she was seventeen?!"

"Eighteen," the Chinese man corrected, reaching a hand up to rub his ear.

"And she got to keep the baby? The government didn't force her to abort?"

"We got rid of the one-child policy last year, Phichit. Everyone's allowed to have two kids now."

"So is your stepfather okay with having a daughter?" Yūri questioned.

Her boyfriend fell silent as he tilted his head in consideration, like he was trying to come up with an answer. "He's not mad," he decided. "I mean, she's his child so he loves her."

Even without being said aloud, Yūri knew that He Long's stepfather had been hoping for a son of his own. And given his mother's age, the chances of trying again for a son were near nonexistent now. "Is she there with you?" she asked again.

"Yeah," he said. "She and my mother are staying with me." He Long rose from his chair. "Do you want to see her?"

"Yes," was the immediate answer from the figure skaters.

"I'll be right back." He Long left the screen, leaving a vacant background of his room as they waited for him to return. They heard small whimpers and soft hushes as out of view, He Long said, " _Mian, mianhae, Yang-ee_ ," which Yūri could understand as, "Sorry, sorry." Yang, she assumed, was the baby's name.

He Long sat down in front of the screen, this time with a baby girl in his arms. "Aww! She's so cute!" Phichit cooed at the screen. " _Nihao_!"

"Ni ni," the baby babbled as she reached towards the screen with her tiny hands.

"Guys, this is Hui Yang," He Long introduced, holding one of his sister's wrists to make her wave to them. His voice turned more gentle as he addressed his sister. "These are my friends. The nutcase on the left is Phichit—"

"Hey!" The aforementioned nutcase protested.

"—and this is my girlfriend, Yūri," he finished.

"Uwi," Hui Yang mumbled. "Eebo."

"Yes, she is," He Long agreed as though his baby sister's speech was comprehensible. "She's trying to say that you're pretty," he said to Yūri with a smile.

"Aww." Yūri tried to ignore the light burning in her cheeks from being complimented—as close as it was—by a baby. "Who named her?"

"My grandmother did," her boyfriend replied. "She named both of us. I'm 'river dragon', my sister is 'bright ocean'. Not bad, huh?"

"Is she also watching your sister most of the time?"

"Yes."

Yūri smiled as she made a small wave with her hand. "Hui Yang, _an-nyeong_!"

Hui Yang gave her a gummy smile as she reached for the screen again. "Ah-o!"

"Say, can you tell me why I keep hearing about Hellfire on social media?" He Long asked while his sister reached for something out of sight.

Phichit erupted in laughter as he fell out of sight of the laptop. Yūri, on the other hand, felt her face burn up as she remembered the video of Viktor's exhibition. "It happened at our European Championships. Viktor skated to Hellfire for his exhibition," Yūri explained as another howl left Phichit's mouth.

He Long looked incredulous as he reached for his phone and typed something in, occasionally "aided" by Hui Yang as she curiously touched her brother's phone. "You're _kidding_ ," he finally said, looking up from his phone and putting it away. "A world-class figure skater pulled off Hellfire and it went viral?"

"Has it?" she wondered.

"And they think that Nikiforov is in love with somebody."

"It's just wild guesses," Yūri insisted. "There's no way Viktor would skate this if he was in love with somebody." So she said, but Yūri had no idea if she was trying to convince her boyfriend or herself. Earlier, she decided that she wouldn't tell He Long that she had hallucinated during practice so that he wouldn't worry. He also didn't need to know that her mind had conjured Viktor in his Hellfire costume, kneeling before her like he was asking her to come to him.

Which was crazy, because in what world would _Viktor Nikiforov_ —the untouchable king of the ice—want anything to do with _her_? If that were true, then Viktor skating to Hellfire meant that he had to have watched clips of her acting final on Phichit's Instagram. But Yūri was sure that even then he wouldn't skate Hellfire for her. She wasn't beautiful or seductive and she was certainly no Esmeralda.

He Long gave her an odd look that Yūri often couldn't make sense of. It was a look that made her wonder if he could see everything in her mind. "...I wouldn't say he's in love," he began in a low voice. "I think he's more obsessed than in love."

Phichit sat up, no longer overwhelmed by laughter. "You really think so, Long?"

"Think?" He Long's expression was one of disbelief, as though he were offended that Phichit had found something to doubt. "I know he is. I'd bet my savings on it."

Yūri heard the next words even before they left Phichit's mouth. "We're talking yuan, He Long?"

He Long smacked a palm to his face, clearly unimpressed. "Phichit," he muttered darkly, "I can still alter your costumes for next season and you wouldn't be able to do a thing."

Phichit smiled, but it wasn't the cheery smile that Yūri was used to finding on her friend. This smile was clearly forced, like he was trying not to murder her boyfriend if he even changed one detail of the costumes he commissioned. "Try it and I'll never pay you another yuan—"

"And if you try to finish _that_ , say good-bye to the only designer who'll ever give you a decent rate."

"You charge me more than Yūri, you high society wannabe fashion snob!" Yūri felt guilty because her costumes usually _were_ less than what He Long normally charged other skaters since she was dating him and He Long insisted on "spoiling" her.

Recognizing the sneer on He Long's face, one that Yūri would see when He Long knew that victory was his, she tried to reason with the two as best as she could. "He Long, please don't—"

"Well _one_ of us needs to have standards, and with _your_ mediocre makeup skills—"

"Long!" Yūri tried her best to sound admonishing, but she knew the damage was done. She swore that steam was pouring out from Phichit's ears, much like a character's in a cartoon or anime.

"You're lucky you're in China or I'd stab you with my eyeliner, jerk!" Phichit tried to hiss as quietly as he could so that he wouldn't disturb the oblivious baby with He Long.

"Ju jugu," Hui Yang mumbled. "Pikiti."

"...you're lucky your sister's there too, Lucky Bastard," the Thai skater added in a huff. The short track speed skater let out a short laugh in response.

"No bad words in front of the baby," the Japanese skater warned. "Aren't you flying out to Germany soon?" Yūri added to her boyfriend.

"We fly out today," He Long confirmed. "Our flight's in a few hours and my mother's going to see me off before her flight."

"...You know you might not be an overall winner after missing Shanghai," Phichit pointed out.

He Long cocked his head. "I earned enough points at the other three events. I can get bronze at least."

"Just remember not to pull a Sjinkie Knegt if you don't."

The name of the Dutch short track speed skater was enough to make He Long crack up. "Same goes for you when you don't make the podium, Phichit."

"I WILL make that podium, snob!"

"Yūri." He Long appeared to reach for her but stopped, like he remembered that they couldn't physically touch. "Make me proud at the Four Continents, please?"

Yūri swallowed nervously. Last year, she had taken gold at the Four Continents for the first time in her senior career. Naturally, all eyes were going to be on her to defend her title. A weight seemed to grow on her shoulders with the knowledge that she was going into the Four Continents with high hopes from everyone. "...I'll try."

He Long smiled. "Please do." And with that, the video chat ended. The figure skaters were left to stare at the bright screen of the laptop.

Yūri couldn't help but feel jealous over the fact that He Long's mother had made the effort to visit him. Thanks to their studies and their sports, she and He Long weren't able to see their families often. But with the Short Track Speed Skating World Cup, He Long was able to visit his family every December. Yūri, on the other hand, had only been able to see her family when she was invited to the NHK Trophy this season. That was the only time they'd been able to leave the inn to come see her. Barring that event, she hadn't seen her family in five years.

There were reasons that they couldn't see each other often, which Yūri understood completely. Plane tickets were expensive and the onsen's revenue could only get them so far. Her parents knew some English for when an occasional tourist came to stay with them, but it wasn't enough for them to navigate America with ease. And Yūri was sorry for that. She had chosen to come to America, even though it meant that visits would be rare on both sides and her family never got to see her grow into an adult.

As Yūri made to close the laptop, a pair of arms draped their weight over her from behind. The Japanese skater couldn't fight back the recoil when she felt the arms around her. "What were you doing?" Giles' mouth was uncomfortably close that his words on her ear made Yūri shudder.

"Let go of me, Giles," Yūri pleaded, trying not to make her disgust known.

"I don't want to," the male pair skater whined.

As Yūri moved to throw off his arms, they were forcibly peeled from her. She turned around in time to see Venus shove Giles away. "She didn't ask for an excuse, creep," her roommate barked.

Yūri could have smelled the fight from a mile away. "Venus—"

"Giles, don't you dare—" Phichit tried to warn.

"What the hell is your problem, Venus?"

Venus scoffed as though she couldn't believe Giles had the audacity to ask that. " _My_ problem? _I'm_ not the unstable fuckboy who can't grasp the idea of personal space. And you know what?" She stabbed her finger at Giles' chest. "You have the exact same problem when we're doing our spins!"

"Don't try to pin this on me!" By now, Yūri and Phichit moved to separate their roommates away from each other. Both resisted their efforts, though Venus went more easily with Yūri.

"Then whose fault is it that I almost got my face cut open today?!"

At this rate, Yūri could only hope that the next few weeks would pass smoothly for the pair skaters.

* * *

On the first day of the Four Continents, Yūri waited in the stands with Phichit as they watched for their rink mates. Yūri had taken fifth place during the short program in her bracket and pairs' was scheduled just after. Phichit would skate in the evening tomorrow.

The announcer said something in the host country's language, followed by the translation. "On the ice, representing the United States of America—Venus Jones and Giles Badcock."

Phichit couldn't hide his sputter when he heard Giles' surname. Two years on and the mention of Giles' last name still split Phichit's sides. To those unfamiliar with the more crude aspects of the English language, there would have been no reaction. But the stadium had enough English speakers that there were some scattered chuckles mingled with applause. From where she sat, Giles had an annoyed look set against a red face.

Yūri looked around for Celestino, finding him gripping the rink boards. There was no doubt that he was expecting the pair skaters to behave themselves.

And they did, or at least Yūri thought so. As the music played, the two kept a tranquil mask in place, giving off the illusion that there had never been any conflict between them. But that mask came at the price of looking lifeless during their program.

Giles managed to catch Venus from their triple twist lift. While he set her back on the ice, he pushed her out enough that she fell on the ice. The monitors captured the surprise and frustration on Venus' face as she got back up.

Phichit groaned. "They were doing so well."

During their side-by-side camel spins, Yūri winced as Giles' left blade came close to Venus' nose. They weren't just too close, they were spinning out of sync. It was obvious to tell that Venus was leading the choreography. She looked more lively than Giles, who only seemed to put in the bare amount of effort into the program.

"I can't watch," Phichit moaned, burying his face in his hands. "Yūri, tell me when it's over."

Others probably would have been quick to assume the intense expressions on the pair skaters' faces were those of concentration. But Yūri could easily recognize the anger in Venus' narrowed eyes, practically commanding Giles to pick up the pace. Only Giles didn't, even as they went into their side-by-side triple Lutz. Yūri grimaced as the male pair skater under-rotated the jump.

"Phichit." Yūri swallowed as the pair skaters entered an out of sync combination spin. "It's over."

"Please don't lie, Yūri. The music is still on."

Yūri had never been so relieved to see the end of the program. Even if they were her rink mates, that was the worst she had ever seen them skate in two years.

* * *

Yūri waved and bowed to the audience as she ended her program, just barely making out the sight of gifts and flowers being thrown on the ice. It bewildered her that people even went out of their way to get something for her. Among the deafening applause, she could make out Phichit hollering at the top of his lungs.

As she skated towards the kiss and cry, she bent down and picked up a bouquet that the flower children missed. There was hardly anything special about the roses, though the script on the small card inside the wrapped bouquet caught her eye.

 ** _BE MINE_**

Just two words written in choppy block letters. A meaningless message from someone who probably didn't know she was already taken.

That didn't stop her from setting the bouquet far away from herself as she waited for her score.

* * *

 **[4CC Yuri Katsuki FS]**

 **{My baby won again!}**

 **{My favorite song from my all time favorite kdrama and she nails it}**

 **{She's Japanese. The program would be better if a korean skater did it}**

 **{Who? Your wannabe Yuna? That dead girl?}**

 **{Dude, Wannabe would butcher this song. She made Hairspray look boring and I haven't even watched it}**

 **{How is that even possible?}**

 **{Guys, if you look at** 5:05 **, Yuri looks a bit scared}**

 **{omg you're right}**

* * *

Things didn't calm down when they returned to Detroit. Emboldened by their results at the Four Continents, Celestino kept them busy so that they would be in shape for the Worlds. Phichit had earned bronze in his division, Yūri was surprised that she had managed to defend her title, and Celestino seemed content with the pair skaters' placement in ninth.

That was a lie. Deep down, Yūri knew that Celestino wasn't happy at all. That was why he held Giles and Venus back while everyone else went home. More than once, Yūri had returned alone to the apartment she shared with Venus.

The newfound solitude only aggravated Yūri's fears as the World Championships drew closer. Last year, she had taken bronze at the Nationals but the JSF had assigned her only to the Four Continents. This year she had finally placed high enough that she would go to the World Championships as well.

It wasn't just that the Worlds was in Japan this year that made her apprehensive. This was the second international competition she was in where Viktor Nikiforov was skating as well.

It was a dream and a nightmare come true. She barely held herself together when Mila dragged her towards Viktor and her other rink mate, Yuri, in Sochi. She probably looked way too eager to get away from him. How was Yūri going to handle the World Championships knowing that Viktor was there?

Her inner turmoil revealed itself through her skating. Day after day, she bit back her frustration as she missed her jumps. At one point, she recognized one of her rink mates telling her to take a break but she couldn't remember who it was. She couldn't take a break yet. She needed to prove that she could skate on the same ice as Viktor, and falling wasn't going to do it.

When she returned to her apartment that night, she fully expected to be greeted by darkness. Yūri was not prepared to see Venus sitting at the table with a grim expression and an envelope in front of herself. A pot on the stove was steaming, meaning that Celestino had let the pair skaters go early enough that Venus could prepare dinner.

"Venus?" Yūri asked nervously.

The dark-skinned skater looked up from the envelope and brightened. "There you are, Yūri."

"Is everything all right?" Yūri hoped that the envelope didn't contain any bad news, like Venus' tuition bill or a letter from the USFSA.

"Yup." Venus waved her over to the table. "Come here, I want to give you something."

Yūri blinked in confusion as her friend held out the envelope to _her_. She took it and opened it with hesitation, blinking again when she found several tickets. Three plane tickets were held together by a paper clip, a round trip destined for Seoul. Two more were for a return to Detroit. Yūri was about to ask about the destination until she found the final ticket. "The Short Track World Championships?" Yūri read, looking at Venus in shock.

"I figured you missed your Shanghai Dragon, so I got you tickets to see him," Venus replied nonchalantly as she scooped their dinner into two bowls. "Don't worry about the cost," she added just as Yūri opened her mouth. "That's on my head, not yours."

"But why would you get this for me?" Yūri cried. It wasn't that she didn't want to see He Long, but _now_ of all times? "We have our own World Championships to worry about! I can't just leave—"

"Yūri!" Venus turned around, clearly annoyed that Yūri was protesting her gift. The Japanese skater bowed her head in apology. "Look, you've been working your ass off ever since the Four Continents. You probably never noticed, but every time I watched you skate, you were on the point of a meltdown. _I'm_ sending you to take a break and Celestino can't do a thing when you've already got the tickets."

Yūri swallowed. "...okay."

Her roommate smiled. "Let's eat."

Dinner was awkward. When Yūri wasn't eating, she was either glancing at the envelope or at Venus. The biracial pair skater was staring at her phone, scrolling up occasionally before remembering to eat.

"So…how are things with Giles?"

Venus had a scowl on her face and Yūri took that as her cue to shut up and eat. "Yūri." The Japanese skater looked up slowly, timid brown eyes meeting a more serious pair. "I'm not going to the World Championships."

"What?" Yūri's first thought was that one of the pair skaters had been injured. "Are you okay?"

Venus looked miffed. "I didn't say I _can't_ go, girl. I said I'm _not_ going."

"What about Giles?"

"What about him?" came the uncaring response.

"The World Championships, your standings—! Giles will be angry!"

"Badcock's tantrums are the least of my worries, Yūri," Venus said coolly.

"But—I thought you said you were going to handle him," Yūri said weakly. "You said you knew how."

Venus set her spoon down, folding her arms so that her elbows rested on the table. "…Does it seem like I'm running away to you?"

"Y—" She didn't know how to answer that. To Yūri, Venus was loud, headstrong, and fearless. She was everything that Yūri wasn't and more. She never backed down from anything and now her invincible friend was giving up on her partner? There was something wrong with this picture. "Sort of…" she admitted.

"Yūri." Her head was tilted up until she met Venus' eyes. "I know you. I know you hate to give up, and you cry when you have to. You probably don't know how other people can swallow it. But there's nothing wrong with letting go. It just shows that you know what's best for yourself."

"Giles and I aren't cut out for each other anymore, girl," Venus continued, letting go of the sides of Yūri's head. "We need new partners, we'll lose our standing—and I'm fine with that." Venus breathed in as she put on a steely expression. "Because I will not finish the season with _him_ for something as shallow as a spot on the podium."

"Shallow?" Yūri repeated.

"And I don't want you to end up like that, Yūri." Venus grabbed Yūri's hand and slapped it over the envelope. "I don't know if you'll stay with Yuan forever. I do know that you'll try to fight for whatever you've got with him. But the minute something goes wrong and you can't find a good reason to stay anymore, I want you to get out. Got it?"

* * *

 **Sjinkie Knegt is a real-life Dutch short track speed skater. He's best known for throwing a double-barrel finger salute to Viktor Ahn when the Russian skater beat him to the finish line.**

 **We'll be looking through the eyes of the Ice Tiger of Russia in the next chapter.**

 **Eventually I'll reveal the music Yūri has for the season, but for now they're under wraps!**

 **Also:**

Mian, mianhae: Earlier, He Long was saying 'sorry' to Hui Yang in Korean

An-nyeong: Also Korean, it's a short informal way of saying hello


	8. The Cat's Discontent

Yuri hated many things in life.

Viktor fucking Nikiforov was one of them.

It wasn't always like that, though. He used to like the guy.

("I was a kid, damn it! Every figure skater in Russia looked up to Viktor at one point!")

That was before he learned how much of an airhead the man was. Seriously, the guy had an insanely long winning streak and thought it gave him a right to be a self-centered ass. Yuri could count the number of times Viktor worried over his receding hairline. (A total lie: Viktor whined constantly about it that he lost count.) Last time he worried over his hair, Yuri made a note to get him a wig for his birthday.

At least Yuri didn't have to put up with Viktor all day, like Georgi and Yakov. As much as he hated the time he spent at school, his grandpa wanted him to have a decent education. Even though Yuri would be plenty famous when he beat Viktor next season, his grandpa insisted that completing his studies would help him in the future.

Well, who was he to argue?

So when he arrived at the skating club after classes, it didn't surprise him that Mila was there before him. Not even the sight of her watching some pair skaters on TV in the break room made him blink. Yuri wondered if she was planning to switch to pairs someday. "Aren't you supposed to be on the ice?"

"What Yakov doesn't know won't hurt him," Mila said.

Seeing as that advice was way better than what Viktor would have offered—like passive-aggressively insulting someone during said advice was a good idea—Yuri sat down next to her as the announcer called up the next skaters in English. "—Jones and Giles Badcock."

Both of them burst into a fit of laughter at the male skater's last name. If Yakov didn't know they were here before, he did now. He could probably hear them from the rink, but Yuri couldn't bring himself to care. This was priceless! "Who the hell calls themselves _Badcock_?"

"Americans have terrible last names!" Mila cackled as the Americans got into position.

"Americans?" Why the hell was Mila watching a bunch of Americans skate? Oh—he remembered what day it was. "The Four Continents?"

" _Da_ ," she replied as the Americans did some kind of overhead twist spin. "I wanted to watch Yūri but the ladies' competition was over when I got here and—that was deliberate!" she screamed as the male skater— _Badcock_ , Yuri chortled to himself—pushed the female black skater until she toppled onto the ice.

"I thought he was setting her down," Yuri said.

"Yes but you don't push her while you're at it!" Mila narrowed her eyes as the Americans continued on. Yuri didn't have to be in pairs to know the program was splintering beyond repair. He thought it couldn't get any worse after the side-by-side spins where the man tried to slice the woman's nose. Now that he watched, the problems were mainly with the male skater. The female skater was more into the choreography than her partner, who made a half-assed effort to keep up. If Yuri looked anything like that on the ice, the old man—the _much_ older one—would skin him alive.

"That jump will be downgraded," Mila muttered as the male skater landed a double Lutz in contrast to his partner's triple.

"The douche should just quit."

"So you are here." Yuri looked away from the eyesore that dared to call itself a program to find Georgi poking his head into the break room. "Yakov was wondering where you two were."

"We'll be right there," the redhead said as the program ended with applause. Why the Hell did anyone want to applaud that crime of a program?

"You need to hurry," Georgi said, looking back into the corridor. "You were supposed to be on the ice half an hour ago and Yakov knows Yuri just got here."

"But I want to see the scores—! Is that Yuri?" Mila finished abruptly.

"Huh?" Yuri looked at the screen again. The camera had panned out to show some members of the audience. Yūri Katsuki was sitting in the stands with some dark-skinned kid. It was strange to see the pretty Japanese woman on TV with a face of utter horror, but even more baffling to see her at a pair skating event. "What's she doing there?"

"Oh, that's right." Yuri was too busy watching the other Yuri take off her glasses and rub her eyes as though she could erase the crime she just witnessed from her memory. The boy next to her clapped in obvious reluctance. "Yūri said that she had some pair skaters for rink mates. This must have been them," the female skater said.

"Really? Their coach sucks." At teaching pair skaters, at least. He didn't have a problem coaching the other Yuri to a winning streak, except her coach took his sweet time to do so.

"Who are those two?" Georgi asked as the camera switched to the pair skaters waiting with Cialdini at the kiss and cry. Yuri found it funny that the two were glaring daggers at each other without a care as to who was watching.

"The scores for Venus Jones and Giles Badcock," the announcer called out.

None of them ever heard the numerical value the judges somehow awarded. Right after the last syllable sounded, the Russian skaters erupted in another round of laughter, now joined by Georgi. When Yakov found them and screamed at them to hit the ice, they did so cackling the whole way.

Seriously, what self-respecting douche called himself _Badcock_?

* * *

 **[4CC Yuri Katsuki SP]**

 **{I was confused when I found a figure skating video in related videos to Hayao Miyazaki, but wow am I glad I found this!}**

 **{She fits the music so well! She really does look like she fell from the sky!}**

 **{I heard that her coach chose this piece because she was homesick during the summer}**

 **{My poor baby!}**

 **{This isn't the first time she skated to joe hisaishi's music. At the gpf gala, she skated Nausicaa}**

 **{Nausicaa led me to this girl and now I'm in love with her}**

 **{Get in line. She has a boyfriend}**

* * *

As soon as he was given a break—more like when Yakov finally forgave Mila and Yuri for not getting on the ice in time—Yuri got on his phone and looked up any recent videos from the Four Continents that he could find. It was mostly ice dancing, pairs, and a handful of ladies. When he found the one he wanted, he tapped on the video and waited for it to load.

Now Yuri had met a number of people who shared the same name as him. When he was little, it didn't bother him so much. Now he was annoyed. Yuri planned on being Russia's next star on the ice and he had to share his name with a bunch of losers? It wasn't fair! If he had to share his name, the other person had to be as good as him!

So when Yuri learned that there was another Yuri on ice that was picking up steam, he was glad that _someone_ was making the effort to live up to their shared name. That relief turned to annoyance then anger with the realization that he would be overshadowed by the other Yuri when he made his senior debut. His anger didn't last for long when Yakov told Mila, not Viktor or Georgi, to watch out for her: the other Yuri was a _girl_.

Much like he was doing now, Yuri had looked all over YouTube for any Yuris in figure skating. There were more videos of himself in Junior events and then some of an Asian girl named Yuri Katsuki. Figuring that that was the Yuri that had Yakov focusing on Mila so much, he pressed the video to see if the other Yuri did their name any justice.

At first he didn't see why Yakov was so paranoid. Sure she was good, but some of her jumps were shaky. Yakov would scream at them if they landed half as bad as her. At least when she fell, she did it properly, not like a particular Russian skater. Pogorilaya's programs were practically educational videos on how not to fall.

That didn't mean all of her jumps were bad. The one that impressed Yuri the most was her triple Axel, something even Mila couldn't do. And she wasn't bad to watch, either. Most skaters focused on the technical aspects and skipped being artistic altogether. The other Yūri's coach took the opposite direction and made sure she looked creative at the risk of ignoring her jumps.

But her coach didn't abandon everything else for artistic points. Because _holy crap_ , she was fast with her feet. Her free program from last year's Four Continents included an intricate step sequence that had Yuri wondering how the other Yuri didn't twist an ankle from the speed of her turns. Maybe that was what made Yakov so scared. It could've been for fear that Yūri would eventually leave Mila in the dust or a rare fear for the safety of a skater that wasn't his own. Yuri himself was on edge when he watched that program on his phone a year ago, thinking that Yūri would snap her ankles halfway through.

But she didn't. Even on a tiny phone screen, anyone could see the concentration on her face if they looked close enough. Most people probably didn't notice anything beyond the joy on her face as she skated. And it was contagious. Seeing her smile had made Yuri smile as his cat curled up to him.

And the photo of her that popped up the next day, showcasing her first gold in her senior career? Yuri had some mixed emotions about that. He was annoyed that that was her only gold since her debut. But he was proud of the Japanese Yuri, too. She deserved that gold medal. Anything to see her smile like that was worth it.

Yuri had never heard of some of the music Yūri used for her programs until now. And he liked that. It was like five seconds into the music, she decided to hell with the hand-me-down classical pieces that every figure skater went through and chose a different song. Yuri lost count of all the Scheherazades and Carmens that he had ever seen. Didn't the judges ever get bored of hearing the same music every year?

That wasn't to say that she was perfect. It would have been boring if she was. But what annoyed Yuri the most was that she had no Internet presence _at all_. Yūri Katsuki, it seemed, was a private person.

Yuri would never say that he liked her. He just wanted to learn more about the female skater who shared his name. There was nothing wrong with that.

Even if she was older than him by eight years.

* * *

Thankfully, Yuri had no classes on Saturday. This gave Yakov the whole day to prepare Yuri for the Junior World Championships next month. Not that they had much to prepare for. Yuri was way better than the other junior skaters. He could get GOEs of 2 and 3 while the others still stumbled on their landings like beginners.

When Yakov let them all off for break at half past one, Yuri was right behind Mila when they reached the lunchroom. The redhead turned on the TV and Yuri was about to order lunch when Georgi came in after Viktor toting a large lunch bag, making the youngest skater stop midstep. It wasn't very often, but Georgi could bring in that lunch bag everyday and Yuri would still be amazed by it.

"Did your neighbor make a lot of food again?" Yuri asked. Mila stopped changing channels to look at Georgi's larger than normal lunch.

"They always make something for me," Georgi said, setting the bag on a table before he dug through it to get the contents out. "And I always return the favor."

As far as he knew, Georgi played an odd game of hot potato with his neighbor that involved them giving him food and Georgi returning the other's food containers with his own homemade food. Either his neighbor had no idea of portion control or they thought Georgi wasn't eating enough. Was Yuri complaining? Hell no. It meant that occasionally, Georgi had more food than he could finish alone and Yuri got a free lunch.

Yuri was pretty sure Georgi's neighbors were some kind of Asian. There was always a high vegetable to meat ratio, something that Yuri hated but his neighbors knew that Georgi was an athlete who needed healthy food. And it was good food, not the tasteless stuff.

"Is that the Four Continents?" Viktor asked as Mila finally reached the channel she—and Yuri—wanted.

" _Da_ ," Mila said, ditching the remote to join them at their table. "And we still have time before Yūri has to skate."

"The Japanese Yuri?" _No, the American_ , Yuri wanted to snap at Georgi. "How did she place?"

"She's somewhere in fifth right now."

As the four of them dug in, Mila and Viktor made some commentary on the programs. Under-rotated and no finesse were the most frequent as well as groans when someone fell.

"Hey, when did Wannabe move up to senior?" Mila asked abruptly.

Yuri looked up with a mouth full of carrot salad. "Huh?"

"Wannabe," the redhead repeated as a South Korean skater skated a small ring before getting into position. "She was in Juniors with me."

The info box that appeared told Yuri that the girl's name was Nabi Jang. "You must have hated her if you call her Wannabe."

"She's mostly just talk," Mila continued as the music played. "Plus she's not really committed to her choreography."

Even without the heads up, Yuri could have seen that for himself. Wannabe was good for jumps but not much else. He could have put Potya on the ice and gotten better results.

"Is there a reason you call her Wannabe instead of butterfly?" Georgi asked.

"Everyone called her that because her name made it too good to pass up."

Nabi— _Wannabe_. Yuri could add that to the list of names doomed from the start. Seriously, Nabi and Badcock? Some countries just set up certain names for failure!

Finally it was time for the last group to warm up. The Japanese Yuri was among the women who had yet to skate and would be the first one to do so. The camera man made sure to focus on each of the skaters equally, but Yuri wanted them to focus more on his female counterpart. When they finally aimed the camera at her, Yūri was in the middle of the takeoff for an Axel. The shock on her face when she made a half rotation told Yuri that the woman had meant for more than that.

"Oh, dear," Mila murmured as Yūri tried to build up more speed after the popped Axel. "I hope it's not a bad day for her."

"She'll be fine."

Great, he just had to open his mouth. Now he was being scrutinized by Georgi and Viktor. The former looked confused while the latter had a smile that Yuri longed to punch off. At least Mila wasn't judging him. "What makes you so sure, Yura?" Georgi asked.

Viktor looked too happy to indulge. "That's because Yuri—"

"—is going for another Axel," Yuri snapped at Viktor, jabbing his thumb at the monitor in time for them to see Yūri jump and complete a triple Axel. "What did I say?"

Mila sighed in relief just as four skaters left the ice, leaving Yūri alone to skate one lap to psych herself. As much as he hated to say it, the designer of her costume knew what he was doing. So far for this season, he made her look like she came from another world. But that didn't mean Yuri would forgive the Lucky Bastard for his crime.

"Oh!" Georgi sat up as the music played. "She's skating to a Korean song?"

"Huh?" Yuri didn't look away from the program when Georgi said that. He wanted to watch every detail, but he was also curious to know how Georgi knew the music's origin before the words even started. "How do you know it's Korean?"

"My neighbor recommended a Korean drama to me years ago. This song played a lot during the episodes." As the first words rang out, Georgi added, "It's really beautiful, too." Whether he meant the show or the music, Yuri had no idea. At least this solved the mystery of Georgi's neighbor.

For a song in a language he didn't understand, it sounded nice. The thing that bothered him was that it sounded like a mopey love song, perfect for the likes of Viktor or even Georgi. Hell, he swore that Georgi was humming along to it right now!

Still, even though Yuri didn't like it, the other Yuri made it work. Even with an expression of melancholic longing that shouldn't have existed on her face. Did she miss the fucking bastard she called her boyfriend that much?

Having watched the program in person in Sochi, Yuri knew that the spread eagle was the other Yuri's typical entry into a triple Axel. What surprised him were the loop and the triple Lutz that followed after. "Whoa!"

"Axel-Loop-Lutz? That wasn't in her program before," Mila said.

"She'll get good points for the combo," Georgi added.

Of course she would. The Axel and Lutz were the highest scoring triples and she landed them in a combination. Add the fact that they were now in the second half of the program, Yuri was sure that the Four Continents champion was now accounted for. If only she didn't step out of the landing for her triple flip.

"That looked over-rotated," Mila said as Yūri continued as though nothing had happened.

"Really?" Georgi asked. "It looked under-rotated."

When the program ended with applause after her combination spin, Yuri spared a glance towards Viktor while Mila and Georgi argued about the triple/attempted quad flip. The old man hadn't said a word since the start of the program. He just sat there, a finger pressed to his lips and a thoughtful expression on his face. There was a gleam to his eyes that hadn't been there before.

And Yuri hated it.

The Russian Fairy ("It's Ice Tiger, god damn you!") landed a hard kick to a shin under the table. He didn't care who he hit but he must have hit his intended target because Viktor snapped out of his daze and blue eyes landed on him. "Hello, Yura," he said pleasantly, acting as if Yuri hadn't just kicked him.

"You know she's taken," Yuri snarled. "Quit chasing after her."

Viktor rested his head on his hands with a condescending smile that Yuri wanted to punch off. He was that close, so unguarded. Yuri could reach him in no time. "And why isn't that stopping you, Yura?"

Yuri glowered at him. "Fuck off, old man." He was still pissed off at the older skater for his jab at the European Championships. Eight years divided him from the other Yuri and only four for Viktor. But did that give the man the right to be an pompous ass who believed he had a shot?

Hell. No.

Viktor might think that he had a chance but Yuri knew that he was really setting himself up for failure. Skating _Hellfire_ for the object of his desire? That was a sure fire way of keeping her away. Because who in their right mind skated to a song sung by a psycho to woo someone? What was he trying to do, terrorize her into being his?

Green eyes glared at a snide pair of blue. Yuri might have no chance with the other Yuri, but he wasn't going let Viktor have one either. The second Yūri was within reach, Yuri was going to shove Viktor out of her way.

 _Somebody_ had to keep her safe.

* * *

 **[4CC Yuri Katsuki FS]**

 **{Was that a quad flip?}**

 **{YES! MY BABY LANDED A QUAD!}**

 **{Could everyone just calm down? First, that wasn't a quad. It was missing a quarter rotation, so it's an under-rotated quad. What's more, she stepped out of the landing. She has the speed for a quad, she just can't hold the edge}**

 **{I can't wait for her to land it for real at Worlds!}**

 **{DUDE! The quad flip is Viktor Nikiforov's signature move! If she lands this at Worlds, they'll be the only skaters who can pull it off!}**

 **{Everyone's talking about the almost quad, but does anyone notice her looking terrified at 5:04?}**

 **{…Dear god, you're right}**

* * *

In all the hype leading up to the World Championships, Yakov was working them to the bone. He was especially focused on Yuri, since the Junior Worlds was up first.

If Yakov allowed him to do one quad, he could win gold hands down. Yuri hadn't done a quad in years, not since he swore to the old man that he could win the Junior Worlds without any quads. Since quads were off-limits, that left one option.

Yuri built up speed and took off, landing his triple Axel with ease before kicking off for a loop then a Lutz. He had his arm raised, but he landed sooner than he liked. If he could get that missing rotation in, the gold was his. The Japanese Yuri would see the combo and recognize it. But would she see him?

A few days before Yuri was due to fly out, a photo with Yūri Katsuki tagged in it popped up in his SNS feed. While Yuri was glad for anything about the other Yuri, whoever took it had terrible photography skills. It was out of focus, there were too many people, but Yuri could still pick out Yūri in the background. It took a while though. She seemed to blend right into the crowd.

The caption made him doubt if it really was her.

 **[캇수키 유리 야?]**

Naturally, Yuri couldn't understand the caption. He didn't recognize the language, but seeing Seoul in the Geotag led him to assume that it was Korean. Yuri was about to copy and paste the caption so he could translate it when Georgi walked into the lunchroom.

Yuri walked up to him and shoved his phone towards him. "Can you read this?"

Seemingly unfazed, Georgi took a look at Yuri's phone. _"Katsuki Yuli-ya?"_ he said in confusion. The words sounded strange coming from Georgi, with less of the Russian Yuri was familiar with and something more…foreign.

"So you _can_ read Korean?"

Georgi had the balls to look offended by his question. "You learn a lot from living next to a Korean." Well that settled it. Come the PyeongChang Olympics, Yuri would have to stick close to Georgi to go anywhere in the country.

"Then what does it mean?"

"It says ' _is that Yuri Katsuki?_ '" Georgi rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he swiped up. "But why is she in Korea?"

"Is there anything in the comments?" Yuri asked.

"They're all in Korean."

"Then translate them."

"Most of them are fans who are excited that she's in the country," Georgi mumbled, swiping up again. "Some of them are saying that it's not her, it's just some woman with plastic surgery. Wait…" Yuri looked up. "It says she's there to see—" Georgi squinted at something on his phone. " _Yu-an Heu Long?_ " he read.

"The bastard?!" Yuri snatched his phone from Georgi and looked for the offending reply. When he couldn't find it, it dawned on him that he couldn't read anything in the comments.

"Here." Georgi pointed to one comment with foreign script and a smirking emoji at the end. "It says that she's there to support someone named Yu-an."

Yuri looked up anything important going on in the speed skating world. Much to his frustration, he had to add short track to his search because that _clearly_ made all the difference. Lo and behold, short track speed skating was having its own World Championships. In _Seoul_.

 _"'No matter what, Yūri will **always** return to me.'"_

That arrogant asshole just had to be right.

"That fucking bastard!" Yuri chucked his phone. By luck—and to Yuri's satisfaction—Viktor walked in at the same time the flying smartphone hit him in the head.


	9. The First King's Crown

**Detroit, Michigan, USA**

Yūri felt her palms sweat as she rubbed her fingers together. Celestino was right there, watching Phichit skate and offering advice where it was needed. In a few minutes, all she had to do was walk up to him and tell him she wanted to go to Korea for a few days. And yet… "What if he says no?" Yūri hissed to Venus.

"Yūri, he'll say no if you give him a reason to," Venus said, placing her hands on her hips. "And he can't even if he wanted to."

"What if he makes you refund the tickets?"

Her friend looked at her sternly. "I. Won't. Let. Him."

"Take a break, Phichit!" Celestino called out.

Venus patted her shoulder twice before giving her an encouraging shove. "Go."

Yūri swallowed and walked right past Phichit, who was busy putting his skate guards on. Celestino hadn't even looked up from the papers he had in front of him. She considered leaving him alone so he could read them properly but she knew that Venus would send her back, most likely pushing her the whole way. "…Coach Celestino?"

Celestino looked at her. "Oh, Yūri. Is something wrong?"

"N-no," Yūri replied. "Well, I wanted to ask you something."

The Italian man blinked at her. Yūri was beginning to worry that Celestino could see right through her. That the whole idea was doomed from the start. "You don't ask anything from me very often," he said.

Yūri didn't say anything to that because Celestino said it like she was _supposed_ to bother him with questions. She didn't know how everyone else could do it so easily. Most people hated to be bugged by countless questions. "I was wondering if I could take a small break and go to South Korea for a few days."

"To Korea?" Celestino looked more surprised by her intended destination than by her request. "What made you want to go there all of a sudden?"

"W-well, it's the World Championships for short track speed skating and I—"

"Ah." Celestino nodded in understanding. "He Long is going to be there, isn't he?"

"Yeah, and I was thinking of going to see him," Yūri finished.

Celestino looked away from her, sitting silently. Yūri was suddenly afraid that he was going to refuse and that she would have to produce the tickets and ignite his anger. Why else wasn't he saying anything?!

"That boy would definitely be happy to see you there," Celestino finally responded.

"Huh?" For a moment, Yūri thought she was dreaming. Was Celestino giving his approval?

"He came all that way to Sochi to see you," he continued, looking at her again. "It's only fair that you should return the favor. I think it would be good for you to get out of Detroit right now."

"Really?" Yūri was confused by the last part. What did he mean 'right now'? "What's happening?"

Celestino waved her over to his side and tapped on the papers. Yūri took a look and realized they were the scoresheets for her programs at the Four Continents. **3A+1Lo+3Lz** was circled as well as **4F(under-rotated)**.

Wait, _what?_

"That was an over-rotated triple," Yūri said. She knew for sure that she had gone past a quarter rotation of a triple flip. Yūri thought she landed at the half mark.

"You give yourself less than you deserve, Yūri," Celestino said. He pulled out his phone and opened it to a video, one that Yūri recognized as her free skate at the Four Continents. Celestino had paused the video just before the slow motion replay of her jumps. There was the triple jump combo that he had wanted her to learn. She recognized the takeoff for her triple flip. In the video, she rotated at least three times in the air but kept going. One quarter past the half mark, she finally landed but immediately stepped out. "That was three quarters, and the judges treated it as an under-rotated quad flip."

"But that's…" Yūri was at a loss for words. She knew from Phichit's earlier video of her decking the landing for a quad toe loop that she could do a quad. But to have landed an under-rotated quad at a competition? She might as well have set off a signal flare. Quads were frequent in the men's division, but practically nonexistent in women's. The only woman who had ratified a quad in history was her fellow countrywoman, Miki Ando, and she was a junior skater at the time.

And yet…for an under-rotated quad, Celestino didn't seem very happy. "There's something wrong with that, isn't there?"

"No!" Celestino shouted too quickly. "Not with the quad, but…" Her coach sighed in frustration. "Ever since the Four Continents, the parents of my female junior and novice skaters have been up in arms. I've been trying to convince them that I'm not playing favorites."

"You're not!" Yūri blurted before she could stop herself.

"Thank you, Yūri," Celestino replied with a grim smile. "But the American parents aren't so understanding. It's not that I don't want you to land a quad—I want to see you land one and ratify it," he added.

"They just want their daughters to land one before me," Yūri guessed.

Celestino nodded at the same time his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and groaned. "You should go to Korea, Yūri," he said, thumb hovering over an icon. "But I won't go easy on you when you come back."

Yuri smiled in relief. Yet as she walked away and Celestino answered his dreaded call, she couldn't help but feel angry. Over an under-rotated jump, a bunch of adults who had no right to her life suddenly thought they could dictate what jumps she could do and when. That was so…so…

 _Stupid!_

Even so…she should have heard about her feat on her social media apps. Then she remembered that in her determination to win the Worlds, she had neglected her social media for a while. Come to think of it…

"Phichit." The Thai skater looked up from his phone. "Did Ciao Ciao tell you to keep me distracted so that I wouldn't look at my phone?"

Phichit looked uncomfortably guilty and Yūri knew that she had hit the nail on the head. Why else had Phichit showed her pictures and memes so frequently after the Four Continents? "It wasn't just me," Phichit admitted. "Venus did it the best."

That explained why Venus seemed to swoop in as Yūri was about to open her SNS during the days following the Four Continents. The female pair skater had given her phone to Yūri asking for her help on difficult levels of Candy Crush. While it irked her that Celestino had gone behind her back in an effort to distract her, she was glad for that. She was thankful for him. Seeing the reactions probably would have ruined her focus leading up to the Worlds. "Can we look at the replies together?"

"Sure." They sat together on the bench, huddled over her phone. There were over ninety-nine notifications on her social media. It was time to face the music.

* * *

 **{OH MY GOD! IS THAT A QUAD FLIP? #4cc fs #yuri katsuki #quad flip}**

 **{It's a quad! #4cc #yuri katsuki #quad flip}**

* * *

There were a lot of comments like that. Then came the more realistic users.

* * *

 **{It's not a quad. She missed a quarter turn so it's under-rotated #4cc #yuri katsuki #attempted quad #sorrynotsorry}**

 **{She can try but she'll never land a quad for real #girlsdontdoquads #sorrynotsorry}**

 **{ xxxx [photo] Just like how you'll never get laid no matter how much porn you suscribe? #sorrynotsorry}**

 **{This comment was removed due to inappropriate content}**

 **{Dude, what is wrong with you?! You're such a sick f*!}**

* * *

Phichit scrolled past the rude and inappropriate comments when he found them, but he had been too late in ignoring the earlier ones.

* * *

 **Sara Crispino**

Congratulations on winning  
the 4CC, Yuri!

 **Mila Babicheva**

Wtg Yuri! Show them who's  
boss!

 **Yuri Plisetsky**

[screenshot of judges' results]  
The ISU cleared it. It's official.

 **JJ Leroy**

JJ Style here to send best  
wishes to Yuri Katsuki! Congrats  
on the almost quad!

* * *

Yūri felt her heart warm at the amount of congratulations that poured in from her fellow skaters. There was even one from Mila's youngest rinkmate, Yuri! She didn't think she had made an impression in Sochi for the teen to remember her, much less support her.

* * *

 **Christophe Giacometti**

Nice job on the quad flip!  
Wait till Vitya hears about this!

* * *

"Oh…" Her heart plummeted when she found Chris' message. That was when she remembered that the quad flip was Viktor's signature move. Viktor Nikiforov, the skater who ratified the quad flip and the only skater in the circuit capable of pulling off that jump. Viktor, the untouchable god of the ice, and Yūri had basically trespassed on the god's territory. "Oh no..."

How did Viktor feel about all of this?

He probably hates her right now.

And why not? The quad flip was practically his trademark, and Yūri had just infringed on it. He had every reason to hate her for trying to steal his signature move—even though the thought of it never even crossed her mind. Viktor had so many gold medals to his name and Yūri was a dime-a-dozen figure skater who arrived late to the scene.

And the thought of her idol hating her…that…that…

That _terrified_ her.

* * *

Venus had taken care of the trip to and back, but her friend had warned her that the accommodations were all on her. Yūri wouldn't have had it any other way. The pair skater had already given up so much to get her to Seoul. A few days before she was set to fly out, Yūri had searched on her laptop for hotels within range of the Mokdong Stadium, where He Long's World Championships was set to take place.

But which one was he staying at? She knew that she couldn't stay at the same hotel as him or as the reporters. She'd give herself away in no time. Yūri wanted to surprise him, the same way he had at the banquet in Sochi.

"You could always ask," Venus mumbled sleepily from her spot on the couch, _Porco Rosso_ playing on TV.

"I only know so much Korean as it is!" Yūri reminded.

The female pair skater snorted. "I meant the Shanghai Dragon. I'm sure he'll be glad to share."

"He'll know exactly what I'm up to. Besides, how exactly does one say, 'By the way, where are you staying?' without giving themselves away?"

"Dun…no," Venus yawned. "Same way you didn't tell him about the odd card in the roses you got?"

Yūri shivered violently. Days had passed since her free skate, but the card's message disturbed her to no end. Coupled with roses, it could have been a typical love note if it weren't for the block letters. The use of that particular script had scared her. "…I don't want him to worry about me so much."

"He's your man. He's _supposed_ to worry," Venus insisted as Porco rounded on Fio on TV. "He's probably worried right now. I mean, if a bunch of online users could see you looking scared when you picked up that bouquet, what makes you think the Shanghai Dragon didn't notice?"

It felt like a fire had been lit in her mind. Come to think of it, after the Four Continents, He Long had called her up and congratulated her for defending her title. She knew that he had to have seen her programs and yet…he never said a word about the moment she had been terrified by a seemingly harmless bouquet. Venus had noticed right off the bat that something was wrong and tossed the offending bouquet into the trash when the cameras were off of them.

Yūri had assumed that he didn't want to ruin the joyous occasion, but it had been a week since then. Venus had taken action as soon as Yūri stepped off the ice. Why hadn't He Long said anything?

Her phone rang, the caller ID one that she was familiar with. "Hi, He Long," Yūri greeted.

"I rest my case," Venus said loudly.

"Is Venus there?" He Long asked.

"Where else would I be?"

"You're flying out to Seoul soon, aren't you?" Yūri asked.

"Tomorrow," he agreed. "It gives us time to check in, tour the city, and get mobbed by the local fans before we have to skate in the preliminaries."

"Are you staying in one of those skyscraper hotels the city built just to show off?"

"I swear, practically everything there is a skyscraper," He Long said. "Thankfully, we're staying at—" Yūri couldn't believe her luck. He had just told her where he was staying that easily. She pulled up a tab with the name of the hotel just so she wouldn't forget about it. "It's _supposed_ to be on the smaller side," he added, though the added emphasis showed that he didn't believe it for a second.

"And Viktor's still not there, is he?" Yūri wondered.

"No," he agreed. "He's taking a break to raise his daughter. And why not?" Yūri remembered how dismayed her boyfriend was to find that his idol wasn't competing this season. She remembered how excitedly he had showed her the Instagram post that surfaced of Viktor Ahn with his newborn daughter.

"And…does it ever make you wonder about your sister?"

There was silence on his end. Yūri was suddenly worried that she had crossed a line. "I've been thinking about that," he finally said. "When the season is over, I'm thinking of returning to Shanghai during the summer. That way, Hui Yang will know who I am."

"That sounds good," Yūri noted. The age difference between the two was large enough that any interactions between them in the future were bound to be awkward. Their relationship didn't need to strained further by physical distance.

"What about you? Aren't you going back to Hasetsu after your World Championships?"

"Yeah. I've been away from home long enough." Too long, in fact. The NHK Trophy wasn't enough of a reunion. Both sides wanted the moment to last longer, but Yūri had to return to Detroit. So when the World Championships were over, Yūri would return to her hometown by the sea, hopefully with a medal from the Worlds to give to her parents.

"I'm sure you'll do well," He Long said. Yūri wondered if he had managed to hear her hopes for a medal. "You're the Four Continents champion and you almost landed a quad. How many women right now can say the same?"

Yūri felt her heart warm at his encouragement. How did he know just what to say to make her feel better? "Thank you, Long."

"Since you won gold at the Four Continents—" Yūri braced herself for the inevitable. He Long had seen her reaction to the bouquet and now he was going to ask about it. "—that means I can't slack off at my Worlds," he finished.

Or maybe not. "Just don't push yourself too hard," Yūri reminded, blinking in surprise.

"Sorry, Yūri. I'm afraid I can't do that." Of course he couldn't. Neither could Yūri. After the Four Continents, Yūri had been brutal to herself just so that she wouldn't disappoint anyone when she returned to Japan for her Worlds. And now she was trying to tell her boyfriend to be good to himself when his own World Championships were right around the corner?

"Then remember that Sjinkie Knegt isn't the best role model."

He Long howled in laughter on the other end. It had been two years since the European Championships for short track speed skating where the aforementioned skater had thrown double fingers at Viktor Ahn. It still amused the Chinese skater to no end. "I have to go. The national coach is trying to get us to break our personal best for the relay event."

"Good luck on that."

"I have you! What more do I need!"

When the call ended, Yūri lowered her phone. She was all he needed, huh? But was that enough?

Speed skating involved multiple events and if one was lost, there was always a chance of a medal at another. Short track was no different. And He Long always came out of his competitions with at least one medal to show for it. Figure skating was nothing like that. In each discipline, there were three medals to be won at any competition and if it was lost, that was that.

He was the Shanghai Dragon and the pride of China while Yūri was a late bloomer. Was she really enough for him?

* * *

 **Seoul, South Korea**

Before she got off of the plane when it touched down in Seoul, Yūri pulled her medical mask over her mouth. If she had any fans in Korea, they were likely to be few. Korea had their own skaters to love. But she still had to be careful.

One thing she noticed about the hotel she was staying at was the mix of Koreans and foreigners in the lobby. Yūri felt at ease knowing that she wasn't the only one in the country just for the World Championships.

As soon as she checked in and dropped off her luggage in her room, Yūri hurried out. It was the first day of competition, so they were deciding who would move on through preliminary heats. Yūri could only hope that she had arrived in time to watch the qualifiers.

* * *

 **Tutorial**

"Hi, everybody!" Chibi Yūri greeted. "You probably don't know a lot about short track speed skating so let me bring you up to speed!"

She pulled out a chalkboard from nowhere and began to write on it. "In short track speed skating, preliminaries are set up to decide which skaters will move on to the next round and eventually compete in the finals. Since there are so many speed skaters, a certain number of skaters are allowed to race at once on the ice to make the process go faster. Here at the World Championships, how you place in the individual events decides how you place overall." Chibi Yūri stepped back from the chalkboard to display her work.

1st **34pt**

2nd **21pt**

3rd **13pt**

4th **8pt**

5th **5pt**

6th **3pt**

7th **2pt**

8th **1pt**

"In the finals of the individual events, you earn points based on how you placed," Chibi Yūri continued. "There are four events—not including the team relay—and whoever has the highest combined score is the overall champion, much like how figure skating decides the winners by their combined short program and free skate scores. In the 3000m super final, the leader after the first 1000m earns five extra points."

* * *

 **[{photo}** Is that Katsuki Yuri? **]**

 **{WHERE IS THIS?}**

 **{Why is she in Seoul?}**

 **{Yuri-unni is here!}**

 **{I want to see her!}**

 **{Idiots. It's not her. It's some girl with plastic surgery}**

 **{The doctors did a really good face job}**

 **{It is her! That's the jacket she wears when she's not at a competition!}**

 **{…should I be concerned you know what clothes she owns?}**

 **{But why is she in Korea?}**

 **{Isn't it obvious? She's here to see Yuan He Long}**

* * *

The stadium wasn't as packed as she thought it would be. Sure there were people, but there were still so many empty seats. Either Yūri had come too late or people cared more about the semifinals and the finals. The front row of seats in the section that Yūri entered was void of people that she was able to freely choose a seat close to the ice.

All of the skaters on the ice at the moment were women, each wearing a skin suit with different colors to represent their own nation. As they left the ice, Yūri was suddenly worried that the heats were finished and the day was over.

Her fears were swept away as four male skaters made their way onto the ice, some warming up by skating a slow lap. Yūri could easily identify the skaters from the Netherlands and China by their colors. Dark blue was either Korea or the USA. Judging by the brown hair and the dark goggles on the Chinese skater, he was likely one of He Long's rink mates.

"Go to the start." All four skaters lined up at the starting point, picking the front of their long blades at the edge of the line. "Ready." They leaned forward, much like track racers anticipating the starting pistol.

It happened so quickly that Yūri almost didn't catch it. The skater from China moved forward a hair of a second before the pistol sounded. The others followed China's lead and sprinted before all of them slowed down at the blow of a whistle. "False start!"

Yūri bit her lip as the speed skaters took one lap around the ice at a leisurely pace. He Long once explained to her the things that could get a short track speed skater disqualified from a race. Unsportsmanlike conduct was one of them, as demonstrated by Sjinkie Knegt years ago. A false start was another. After the first, if the same skater instigated another false start, they would be disqualified for cheating.

"Number 8, you have one false start," the announcer called. The Chinese skater wearing the number 8 on his helmet nodded in the direction of the announcer. He held his hands clenched behind his back, his mouth a thin line that held back his shame.

"Go to the start." The men lined up again, edging the line with their blades. Unlike figure skating blades, speed skating blades lacked the toe pick since it would only hinder their performance. "Ready." At the sound of the gun, the skaters took off, crouched low as they leaned to their left to take the turn. China's skater was currently in fourth. The first false start probably made him wait a split second too long after the gun sounded.

If the bell had sounded after the half mark of their third lap, Yūri would have known that this was the 500m heat. When they continued even after the four and a half mark, she knew that this had to be either the 1000m or the 1500m heat.

China's skater, now impatient, moved away from the inner edge of the track and sprinted down the outer lane. As they approached the curve, China crouched low and leaned left, suddenly in second place.

Korea was as desperate to move onto the next heat as China, if not more. Korea's skater was on home territory and definitely would not accept defeat. Currently in third, the Korean skater mimicked China's earlier move. But he lost his footing at the curve and slid across the ice, crashing into the soft barricade that encircled the rink.

Yūri hissed the moment Korea hit the barrier, but the other three skaters hardly took notice. Yūri didn't know why she expected them to do so. Speed skaters never looked back, after all.

After the eighth lap, a bell rang loudly. So it had been the 1000m. Now desperate, the remaining three sprinted but the Netherlands and China were neck in neck. They bolted across the ice, matched in speed until the first curve where China managed to steal the first position. Hungary was doing his best to catch up and South Korea was trying to make up for lost time. China bared his teeth in a triumphant smile after he and the Netherlands took the final curve.

Yūri leaned forward until she held the guard rail. The brown hair on skater #8 had thrown her off, but the sneer on his face as he approached the finish line was unmistakable. Even with a pair of dark goggles covering his eyes, she knew who he was.

The Netherlands and China were greeted by applause as they crossed the finish line, slowing down now that the heat was over. They would move on to the next round. Skater #8 took off his goggles, his familiar face flushed with exhaustion and pride. South Korea seemed to love him.

Yet as he waved to the crowd, he stopped and squinted. Something had caught his eye. Then Yūri realized that he was looking in her general direction.

He Long got off of the ice so that the next group of skaters could race. As fast as he could on his skates, he made his way around the rink. "Yūri!" he called.

Yūri leaned over the guard rail while He Long rushed past fans and spectators looking for an autograph. When he was within reach, He Long engulfed the upper half of her body in a hug that she returned as best as she could in her position. She could hear the audience cooing and aww-ing at them, but neither could bring themselves to care.

It had been too long.

* * *

[Photo of Katsuki Yuri and Yuan He Long at the World Short Track Speed Skating Championships]

 **{Yutsuki is alive! #yutsuki #my ship}**

 **{They look so adorable together! #yutsuki #couplegoals}**

 **{He'd better be good to her. If he pulls the same shit as the hockey player Kim Yuna dated #heisdead}**

 **{Not likely. Have you seen these two?}**

* * *

When the skaters were dismissed for the day, He Long came out to the lobby with his duffel bag. He grabbed Yūri's hand and whispered, "Let's go."

The two ran past fans and skaters. A reporter called out to He Long but he barely gave a thought to the man. They finally slowed down at a stoplight, taking deep breaths before He Long started laughing. "I-I'm sorry," he gasped, leaning against the pole. "I just can't believe you're really here. I thought I was dreaming." He Long rested a hand on his thigh. After the heats he had to race through, Yūri was surprised that he still had the energy to run.

"Your hair faded," she said without thinking. Yūri felt hiding in embarrassment. This was their first reunion since December and of all the topics she could have picked, she chose to talk about his hair.

He Long reached up to his head and patted his hair. "I haven't had the time to dye it since I came to Shenyang."

"I didn't recognize you until the end of the race because of it," Yūri admitted. "And with the goggles, I thought you were one of your rinkmates."

"What?" He Long squeaked with a look of horror. "I can't believe my own girlfriend didn't know who I was!" he whined dramatically.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!" Yūri stammered. "I just got so used to seeing you with red hair and clear goggles!"

He Long held his face in one hand. Yūri was afraid of the thought that he might be mad at her. "Stupid Shen."

"Who's Shen?"

"One of my rinkmates," he explained. "We were training for the 500m sprint at home and he took me out with him when he wiped out. We sprained some fingers—"

"Were you okay?" Yūri asked.

"Tomorrow I will be," He Long said, holding up his right hand to show his pinkie finger bound in bandages. "But the crash broke my favorite goggles and I've had to use dark ones."

When she had tried short track speed skating as part of his and Phichit's bet, Yūri didn't see what difference a pair of goggles made, so long as they kept her eyes from drying out. He Long, however, had worn clear goggles for most of his career and hated to break the streak.

"…how?" He Long looked up. "How did you get here?"

Throughout the time they had been together, Yūri had never been able to come to an actual competition to support him. They had been desperate college students, working to the bone to scrape enough money to pay tuition. And figure skating was an expensive sport. Even with her sponsors, Yūri barely had enough money to spend on herself.

"Venus got me the tickets," she answered. He Long tilted his head, surprised by her answer. "She wanted me to take a break before our— _my_ Worlds," she corrected.

"Venus?" He Long repeated. "What about—wait, I forgot about her cousin," he added. "How is she?"

Yūri bit her lip. "Well, I don't know how to say it."

"Oh?" The pair walked across the street. Yūri had no idea where they were going but if she had to guess, He Long wanted to drop his stuff off at his hotel. "Did something happen?"

Yūri thought back to the night Venus had given her the tickets, when her friend had proudly declared that she wasn't going to the World Championships. She wasn't ashamed—no, Venus had said it as though she had proclaimed herself queen. "Venus is ending her partnership."

"Really?!" He Long exclaimed, looking at her in astonishment before looking back at the road. "She really said that?"

Yūri nodded slowly. "Celestino hasn't said a word about it. I'm wondering if he's trying to convince Venus to hold out till the end of the season."

He Long snorted. "Good luck. Once Venus sets her mind on something, she doesn't give up. But..." He readjusted his bag's weight on his shoulder. "I really did think that she would hold out longer. She doesn't like to call quits so early."

* * *

Once He Long had dropped off his things, he took her to a local ice rink. "Because you came all this way to see me, I can't let you skip practice!"

"But I didn't bring my skates with me!" Yūri cried.

"You can borrow a pair," He Long said. "I bet the staff would be happy to rent you one."

As it turned out, the staff at the rink _was_ more than happy to do so. Yūri was the Four Continents champion and He Long was a well-known short track speed skater. Having two recognized skaters at their venue made them happy to accommodate them.

" _W-what?_ " He Long stammered as he was asked for his size.

The woman's smile slowly faded into a look of confusion. " _Don't you want to skate with your girlfriend?_ " Yūri knew that there was something she missed in translation, but she was sure the lady had just asked if He Long wanted to skate with her.

" _No, no, no,_ " he said, laughing nervously. " _I'm a speed skater."_

Unless Yūri was mistaken, the woman behind the counter pouted in disappointment as she handed over Yūri's skates. "Did she want us to skate together?" she wondered as she laced up the rented skates.

"She's a businesswoman," He Long sighed, resting his head on the rinkboards. "She probably thought us skating together would bring in more people."

Thinking back to her own father thinking of different ways to advertise their inn to bring in more guests, Yūri could understand why the woman wanted them to skate together. From one business to another, she knew what any staff would do to bring in more revenue. That didn't mean she was comfortable being used as a shill. "You know she didn't expect you to do jumps like a figure skater."

"I would have been terrible at it anyway. I'm a speed skater, not a figure skater."

"But you did make a good ice dancer," Yūri said quietly.

"Did I?" He Long looked up with narrowed eyes as he set his elbow on the barrier with his face in his hand. "Well, at least my feet stayed on the ice."

Back when Phichit and He Long made the bet, they agreed that whoever called uncle first had to admit the other's sport was harder. Of course, both of them were too proud to give up. Phichit endured aching thighs and sprained fingers just to have the chance to finally have one over his roommate. He Long almost called off the bet after seeing what the jumps did to his feet. The Thai skater definitely would have bragged for days on end if a student from one of the other coaches hadn't recommended ice dancing, which was still figure skating but involved no jumps.

(Phichit wasn't happy with the loophole at all, having called He Long a cheater among other things.)

* * *

 **{Guess who just saw Yutsuki at the local ice rink!}**

 **{Pics or it never happened}**

 **{** [photo] **He looks so happy just watching her!}**

 **{It'd be romantic if they did a pair skate together}**

 **{Not likely. Yuan is a speed skater}**

 **{Then what about ice dancing?}**

 **{A lot of work goes into ice dancing and you think Yuan can pick it up easily so they can act out your fantasies? Dream on}**

* * *

"And this is the wall that protects Deoksugung Palace," He Long said as they walked along the ancient stone wall to get to Yūri's hotel. "Of course, walls aren't always good at keeping intruders away. Look at the Great Wall of China," he added with a derisive snort.

"I think it would have done some good," Yūri pointed out.

"All it did was make people _think_ they were safe." He Long ran his hand along the stone wall as they walked together. Suddenly, he stopped and looked at a pair of girls not too far from them. They glanced at them not so subtly as they whispered in Korean. Yūri could hear "those two", "bad", and "how", but the rest of the words failed to register. She could guess that they were talking about how they were even together, and that she was a bad match for He Long.

She already knew she was, but it hurt hearing it from other people.

Whatever the girls said ticked He Long off. He narrowed his eyes as he called out, " _Hey! Didn't your mother teach you it was rude to—?"_ Yūri didn't know how he finished his sentence, but he must have told them off since the girls flushed red at being caught. He Long threw a dirty look that sent them scurrying away before huffing in disgust. "Those brats. What gives them the right to assume that?"

"...what did they say?" Yūri asked in a low voice. It wasn't easy for her to hear what people thought about her, but she knew that one way or another, she would learn of their opinions.

He Long looked at her and at the wall before he shook his head and continued walking, this time at a faster pace that Yūri had to run after him. "Some superstition. Apparently, us walking down this road means we're going to break up."

"What?" This was the first time Yūri had heard of this. Well, seeing as using scissors on the day of a date and riding in a boat on a lake in Kichijoji were signs of bad luck for a couple in Japan, this shouldn't have shocked her too much. But what was so unlucky about this road? "Does it ever happen?"

He Long stopped abruptly and spun on his heel, making Yūri take a step back to avoid crashing into him. In the dark of the night, the shadows cast over his face gave him a darker appearance. With his amber eyes glinting from the lamp lights, he looked like a dragon closing in on its prey.

Yūri gulped. "L-Long?"

He leaned down slightly to meet her in the eye, but it did little to ease her initial fear. "I'm Chinese," he said coolly, "and you're Japanese. Even if it's true, why would a bunch of Korean ghosts want to haunt us?"

"But aren't you—?" Yūri looked down when his eyebrows rose, as if daring her to finish. "I-I didn't...I didn't mean..." The look on his face resembled one of annoyance, but Yūri could detect the anger underneath. She wanted to take it back and apologize, but feared what would happen if she said anything. Yūri was afraid that one more word from her would ignite his anger and she...she'd never seen him angry before. She didn't know if she could handle that.

She didn't want to fight with him.

"Yūri." Hands rested on her shoulders but did little to ease the tension she felt. Yūri looked up tentatively, relaxing when she found a pair of gentle eyes staring back into hers. "An old wives' tale can't do anything to us. Trust me, it's going to take more than some folk curse to make me get lost."

Before Yūri could respond to that, her phone rang. She fished it out of her pocket and found that Phichit was trying to FaceTime her. "Phichit?"

"Hey, Yūri," Phichit greeted, waving at them from the screen. "How's the Lucky Bastard treating you?"

"Phichit!" Yūri admonished as the so-called Lucky Bastard waved back to her rink mate.

"Your makeup any better, Phichit?"

"Not you too," she groaned, covering her eyes. Did they have to poke at each other like this?

"Way better than your hair styling skills, jerk!"

"That's enough for both of you," Yūri warned before He Long could retort. "How's Detroit?"

Phichit bowed his head as he rubbed his eyes. "Yūri...is there anyway you can come back early?"

"Huh?"

"Ever since you left, they've been so loud," he bemoaned, sticking a finger in his ear like he was trying to get something out. "I swear I can still hear them yelling at each other when I sleep."

"Them? What do you—oh." Yūri realized that there were only two people Phichit could possibly refer to who had been at each other's throats before she left. "You mean Venus and Giles?"

"Yes," Phichit groaned, looking up tiredly. "Yūri, I swear you had this weird magic spell that made them _a bit_ tamer than this and the minute you left, they threw off the gloves."

"What's Celestino doing about it?" He Long asked.

"He's been thinking about sending them to couple's counseling—" He Long turned away and howled hysterically. Yūri tried to hold back her own at the insanity of the idea. "—yes, he actually considered counseling, but there's not much he can do since Venus dropped the bomb."

"You mean...You mean she finally—" Yūri couldn't bring herself to finish.

Phichit nodded grimly. "Venus is done with Giles."

* * *

 **American Pair Skaters Announce End of Partnership**

Pair skaters Venus Jones and Giles Badcock have announced that they will not compete at the World Figure Skating Championships in Tokyo. In fact, the two will no longer skate together for the rest of the season. Their coach, Celestino Cialdini, stated that the decision to dissolve the partnership was made due to a lack of cooperation.

Jones is a Flint native who once received a suspension from the ISU...(Click to continue reading)

* * *

Yūri sat in the bleachers as she waited for the men's 500m final to begin. The 1500m final was over and He Long had finished first in that event, earning 34 points. Among his competitors, he was one of the favorites to become the overall champion.

"Starting in lane number one, from the Russian Federation!" The crowd roared and airhorns went off as the Russian skater waved to them. Even though they'd never been seen as a major threat in the sport before, in recent years Russia had become a powerhouse like China and South Korea. Russia had the latter to thank for that.

The atmosphere in the arena felt unreal. Yūri was used to loud but polite applause but that was figure skating. Here, in short track speed skating, it was loud, rowdy—chaotic, really. Etiquette was thrown out the window here. Yūri could have compared this to a street race (only because the apartment where she lived with Venus wasn't too far from a sketchy neighborhood).

"Starting in lane number four, from the People's Republic of China!" Yūri looked up as the announcer yelled, "Yuan He Long!" The audience exploded for him as He Long skated forward, placing his dark goggles over his eyes and adjusting his helmet as he took the spot furthest from the inner lane.

Once all of the skaters racing had been introduced, they were called to line up. "Ready." The men leaned forward, anticipating the starting gun. Once it went off, they sprinted as fast as they could, cheered on by the audience. This was the shortest event and even a split second made a difference.

As the skaters took the curve, the Hungarian man in front of He Long stuck his arm out. It was fairly common for speed skaters to extend their free arm out when they took curves, but the arm actually pushed against the Chinese skater and slowed him down slightly. No matter how he placed by the end of the race, Hungary would be penalized for impeding another skater. If He Long decided to stay in fourth or try to pass the others, neither would affect him badly in the long run. He was guaranteed a medal by the end.

There was always a place for him.

The same couldn't be said for her.

* * *

Yūri should have felt happy. She was happy earlier. By the end of the second day of competition, He Long was in the lead for the world title. She should have felt happy for him.

But as they wandered around Seoul, visiting memorable sites around the city, it gave her time to think, which led her to remember. That dredged up memories of the article that came out just yesterday—or today, due to the thirteen hour time difference. The article that announced to the whole world that Venus and Giles had finally ended their partnership, along with additional info about the former partners and their earlier histories. (What right did the editors have to remind everyone that Venus had been suspended?)

"Is something bothering you, Yūri?" The Japanese figure skater looked up, surprised to find herself and her boyfriend sitting on a bench. Then she remembered that the two had decided to stroll through a park.

"Well..." Yūri held up her phone uselessly.

"Still thinking about their split?" He Long guessed.

Yūri could only nod. "I mean, Venus is happy with her decision. I should be happy for her, too, but...I keep thinking that she'll retire," she admitted in a weak voice. Yūri looked down at her phone in her hands.

"Everyone retires from sports eventually."

"I know that...but I don't want her to retire so early...because of..." Yūri trailed off, unable to finish.

"Because she can't find a partner?" He Long guessed. Before she could agree, he continued, "Because of the suspension attached to her name?"

Yūri's head shot up and turned to face him. He Long flinched from how quickly she reacted. "It's so unfair!" she cried, holding her phone tightly. "She's an amazing skater and she deserves to win more than just bronze but that's all the judges will ever give her and anyone she skates with! All because she was suspended for something that wasn't her fault!"

"I don't mean to say you're wrong," he said slowly, "but I think the suspension is only half the reason your judges treat her poorly. I mean, they're looking for delicate princesses and Venus isn't—" Yūri narrowed her eyes at him, making him hold up his palms in surrender. "All I meant was that the judges are biased. Look at how they robbed Kim Yuna in Sochi!"

"Don't even start on that scandal," Yūri huffed, crossing her arms. Just like how He Long could never stop laughing at any mention of Sjinkie Knegt, Yūri couldn't get over how Russia's Adelina Sotnikova was somehow awarded gold over Kim Yuna. For weeks following the Olympics, both she and Phichit talked about the poor judging. Phichit had even ranted to his followers about it.

* * *

As they left the park, He Long stopped at a food stand. Yūri stood off to the side, admiring the pond's reflection. If the cherry trees were in bloom, she would have felt right at home.

"Y-Yūri?"

Yūri jolted at the sound of her name. The voice didn't sound like He Long's—this one sounded feminine. But why would anyone in Korea bother to learn her name?

She looked around until she saw a young Korean woman standing a few feet away with her hand over her mouth. Yūri furrowed her brow in confusion. " _Do I...know you?_ " she asked hesitantly.

The young lady was also confused, like she didn't know why Yūri didn't know who she was. And that made her feel guilty because the other girl clearly knew who she was while Yūri didn't. But then she looked relieved. "No. You deserve better than to remember who I am." What surprised Yūri was that the girl responded in English, even though Yūri had asked in Korean.

"But that's not right," Yūri countered. "If you know who I am, I feel like I should know who you are." The girl before her seemed to consider it and opened her mouth.

"Yūri!" He Long came back, holding a bag. He stopped when he saw the other woman and bowed his head in greeting, which the woman returned. "And you are...?"

"I-I was just leaving. I'm sorry." She bowed in apology before she looked up. "Is this your boyfriend?" the woman asked.

"Yes," the couple answered in unison. The two looked at each other in surprise before Yūri looked away, her face burning lightly.

The woman looked at the two of them, a smile growing on her face and eyes glittering—were those tears? "I'm really happy for you, Yūri!" she said. "And I hope that you're happy with your boyfriend!" She bowed to them again before she looked at He Long. "But if he makes you cry, I won't forgive him!"

"What?!" Yūri cried. "Wait—!" But the woman was already running away from them.

"Who was she?" He Long asked. "And how did she know you?"

"That's the problem," Yūri admitted. "I don't know."

He Long looked from her to the direction where the woman had run off. "...Let's sit down," he decided, jerking his head towards a tented area just beside a food stand. "The _jokbal_ I got is supposed to be really great."

Just from the aroma wafting from the food stand, Yūri could tell the food would be good. She bit into the meat, savoring the smoky flavor cooked into the pig feet—oh.

 _Oh._

So that's who she was.

* * *

The final day of competition for short track speed skaters was much louder than the previous days. Today, the overall medalists were going to be decided. The remaining individual finals, the 1000m and the 3000m, would determine the the placement of the skaters. Having placed first in the 1500m and third in the 500m sprint, He Long was in the lead with 47 points. She was so sure that he would win, but China's national coach had told He Long to watch out for Hungary and Canada's Charles Hamelin.

Yūri didn't blame his coach at all. He Long hadn't qualified for the 1000m final after he and an Italian skater wiped out in the quarterfinals earlier. And now the Canadian skater crossed the finish line first, to the audience's joy as they roared and honked air horns wildly. With Hamelin in second overall with 35 points, the 3000m super final was He Long's only chance to keep him in check.

And that was what was happening now. Since only the skaters who had earned points from earlier events could participate, eight skaters were out on the ice. Canada, China, Hungary, and South Korea: four countries, two skaters each. There were 27 laps to skate and the leader after the first nine laps would earn a five point bonus.

"Go to the start." The skaters lined up, two of them starting behind the rest of the men in front since there was no space for them. Being assigned the seventh position from the inner lane, He Long was one of them. "Ready." The starting gun went off and the skaters started slowly, lining up single file in the inner lane. Stamina was the key in this event. It wouldn't do to go faster than everyone else in the beginning only to burn out during the last laps.

The 3000m event was supposed to get crazy during the last five laps of the race. But one of Korea's skaters, emboldened by chants of " _Dae-Han-Min-Guk!_ ", sprinted ahead of everyone else. His team mate followed after him, leaving the rest of the skaters to pick up the pace. Yūri realized that the Korean skater who had bolted ahead had been after the five point bonus once the bell rang after nine laps and he was in first.

Now that the bonus was taken care of, the skaters were free to take their time. China was carrying the tail end of the race. When there were nine laps left, He Long veered into an outer lane and skated ahead, followed by Wu Dajing. Now they were in fourth and fifth place, but that wasn't enough for He Long. Looking at Dajing to his right, the two sprinted down the outer lanes to overtake Canada and Korea.

Unhappy with his new placement, one of Korea's skaters maneuvered past Dajing and He Long to take back the first position. With four laps to go, He Long returned the favor by sprinting at full speed around the track. The remaining seven skaters were left in his dust to pick up the pace.

Yūri swore that as Korea's Park Se-young caught up to him until they were side by side, He Long glanced at him, mouth curling into a sneer before he turned his attention forward and sprinted. The rest of the skaters matched He Long's speed, but separated by half the length of the track, they had to find their remaining energy to gain some distance.

Three laps to go...two laps...At the final lap, the sneer on He Long's face grew wider until his teeth were bared, much like a wolf ready to pounce. No, that wasn't right. He Long was the Shanghai Dragon. And that's what he was now: a dragon baring his fangs in victory.

After he took the final curve, He Long stood up and clapped his hands before throwing them up in the air as he crossed the finish line. The crowd erupted with him as he yelled triumphantly. Even Yūri couldn't stop the whoop she let out when he crossed the line. It didn't matter how he and the rest of China's skaters would place in the relay later. They could get last and even that wouldn't put a damper on him.

He had won.

* * *

After the men's relay event concluded in China's victory, Yūri waited out in the lobby for He Long. Just now, he had posted a group selfie of Team China holding up their relay gold medals in the locker rooms.

Without warning, Yūri felt herself being lifted off the ground as He Long grabbed her in a hug. The other people in the lobby, including his team mates, whistled loudly as He Long spun around while holding her up high. "I won!" he exclaimed, grinning widely up at her. "I won, I won!"

"Long, you can put me down!" Yūri placed her hands on his shoulders to balance her weight. "Aren't I too heavy?"

He Long let out a short laugh, like the idea was unfathomable. "Are you kidding? You're weightless! You're not even a pound!"

"That's not a good thing!"

"Do I care?" He set her down only to grab her hand and run out the doors with her, much he did on the first day after he found out she was here. She could hear his team mates calling after him in Chinese, but He Long didn't seem to care. Finally he stopped and spun around, taking it all in. "I feel like I own the world!"

After all the events he had to race in, Yūri thought that he would be exhausted. But the high of victory made He Long drunk with pride. He turned to look at her, wearing a wide smile as he closed the distance between them. "Now...what do you want to do, _huánghòu_?"

"What?" The foreign word was unfamiliar to Yūri, but she could recognize it as Chinese. "H- _huánghòu_?" she repeated.

"Empress," He Long said, still wearing that giddy smile. "It means empress. The Korean translation is _hwanghu_."

"But why _huánghòu_?" Yūri asked.

"Well, since I'm the emperor of my sport, I need an empress, don't you think?" He leaned forward until they were face-to-face. "So again: what do you want to do, _empress?_ "

The whole situation felt surreal. He Long was now the overall world champion. She was dating a world champion. A world champion was calling her his empress.

He was the world champion in his sport and Yūri...what was she? She was the two-time Four Continents champion, but that title held nowhere near as much prestige as the world title.

With her own World Championships coming up in less than three weeks, Yūri resolved to train like crazy when she returned to Detroit. She wanted to get on the podium in Tokyo—she _had_ to. Otherwise if she didn't...she wouldn't be enough for him.

Because what right did she have to stay with He Long if she couldn't get a world title like him?

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **There really is a superstition in Seoul that if a couple walks along the stone wall of Deoksugung, they'll break up in the future. It's because in the past, the road led to the divorce court.**


	10. Last Minute Changes

**Detroit Metro Airport**

It was well into the evening when Yūri landed in Detroit. Practice had probably ended hours ago at the club. So it didn't surprise her that much when she found Venus and Phichit waiting to meet her.

"Yūri!" Phichit pulled her into a hug as soon as she was close. "Oh thank goodness! It was a nightmare! I couldn't sleep for days!"

Yūri sweated nervously while Venus rolled her eyes behind Phichit's back. "I-I'm sorry?"

"Quit the melodrama, Phichit," Venus said. "You survived."

Once they picked up her luggage, a celebratory selfie later, they were on the way to Phichit's dorm. The Thai skater filled Yūri in on all the things that had happened since she left. "You said that Celestino considered counseling?" Yūri asked.

"Even if I was dating the creep, it'd never work," Venus said from the driver's seat.

"Then Giles tried to suck up to Venus to make her change her mind—"

"You can see how well that worked."

"Ciao Ciao's trying to find new partners, so now it's just you and me going to the World Championships," Phichit finished as Venus pulled up to the dorms. "See you in the morning, guys!"

"Good night, Phichit!" Yūri called after him.

The ride back to their apartment without Phichit to fill the empty space was awkward. Yūri didn't know what to say without making the situation uncomfortable. Actually, she knew what she wanted to talk about but didn't know how to put it into words.

"Thank you for the tickets," Yūri finally said. "I had fun in Korea."

"That's good," Venus replied without looking at her. Not that she could even if she wanted to. "I saw the posts on Instagram. The Shanghai Dragon was good to you?"

"He was." Yūri refrained from telling her about He Long's rare show of anger at the stone wall that guarded Deoksugung Palace, after she had asked if the superstition surrounding the road was true. Seeing the rage he just barely hid was enough to tell Yūri that something had happened on that road before.

Had he been angry with himself for walking along the wall with her in the first place? Or had he been angry at her for believing it?

"Did something happen?" Venus' voice pulled her out of her reverie, like she knew there was something on her mind.

"…I think we ran into Yi-Rang."

Venus' right hand curled and uncurled around the steering wheel. In the dark, Yūri couldn't see her face that well but she knew that Venus remembered her. "Think?"

"She didn't look like how I remembered her," she said.

"Plastic surgery, Yūri," Venus explained. "South Korea's the plastic surgery capital and she definitely got a face job after what happened. I'd bet money on it."

"I'm not sure if it was her," Yūri admitted. At least, she wasn't entirely confident in her guess anymore.

"Then what made you think it was?"

"Well…when I asked who she was, she said I didn't have to remember her."

"That's her," Venus said immediately. "That was definitely Tae. And after what she did, you _do_ deserve better."

As much as Yūri wanted to disagree with her, she didn't feel she had the right to do so. Yūri herself had forgotten all about Yi-Rang until they met briefly in the park.

"What else did she do?"

"She said sorry, but I think it was because she thought she interrupted our date. "

Venus let out an angry huff. "That lying bitch. Why am I not surprised?

"She also said," Yūri added quietly, "that she was happy for me and that she wouldn't forgive He Long if he made me cry."

"Huh," Venus snorted in disbelief. "What gives that snobby little Barbie the right?"

"Are you still mad at her?"

" ** _Yes_**." The answer came out in a sharp tone that left no room for argument. As unhealthy as it was to hold a grudge, Venus wasn't one to forget so easily. She could live a thousand lifetimes and never forgive the Korean in each one.

Truthfully...part of Yūri still hated Yi-Rang as well.

To avoid pressing the matter further, Yūri stared out her window as they began to pass through familiar streets. Just a few more minutes and they would be home, and Yūri would be training for the Worlds again with Phichit in the morning. Thankfully she hadn't gained too much weight in Seoul. Then again, sightseeing around the city with He Long had been a workout on its own.

"Venus?" Her friend's ears twitched, indicating that she was listening. "Has Celestino found new partners for either of you yet?"

"We're still in the middle of a season, Yūri," Venus said, turning into their neighborhood. "If there's a team that wants to quit, they're too proud to do it until the season's over."

Of course they were. Figure skaters were proud to a fault. Rarely were there figure skaters who casually announced that they wanted to stop in the middle of a season. The only reasons they ever would were if their bodies refused to go on or when they decided they finally had enough. And neither of those options were easy to accept.

Yūri knew all too well the tears that came with swallowing one's pride.

"But what if he can't find you a partner?" Yūri asked.

"Then I'll ask you."

Yūri looked at her friend in shock. _"What?"_

"I'm kidding! I can't make you to miss another two seasons just to wait for the ISU's approval." The car came to a stop, but Venus made no move to get out. "But I'm not giving up either. As long as I still want to skate, I'll keep going. Celestino found a partner for me even with my bad rep. If I have to switch to ice dancing to get a partner, so be it."

* * *

 **phichit+chu**

[pic] Guess who's back? shanghai-long Congrats,  
lucky bastard! _#reunion #backfromworlds_  
 _#dtw #seoultodetroit #hopeyoubroughtgifts_

* * *

The next day, Yūri fell back into her usual routine without too much trouble. Of course, she spent more time in the workout room and the dance studio with Venus and occasionally Phichit. Other than that, it felt like she had never left at all.

But there were some noticeable differences. One was that Celestino was gone. With two of Celestino's Junior skaters qualifying for the Junior World Championships, he had gone to accompany them. His senior skaters were left in the care of another club coach who made sure they didn't slack off during Celestino's absence.

That included the recently split pair skaters.

Pair skaters always trained with a partner, but Venus refused to have anything to do with Giles. The only other skaters at the rink that could help them train in a pair were ice dancers. With the search still on for a partner for each of them, the best the split pair could do was train with the ice dancers so that they wouldn't be too out of practice when their new partners were found.

Despite the temporary arrangement, the ice dancers couldn't afford to help the split pair skaters out for long. They were competing at the Worlds and needed to practice with each other, not with skaters from another discipline. So most of the time, Venus could be found skating by herself.

" _Hello_ ~Yūri."

The Japanese skater felt the words breathe onto her ear like an unexpected wind. She reflexively swung her arm against what must have been the owner of the voice, which then groaned in pain. Yūri looked behind herself, jolting in shock when she saw Giles lying on the ice and holding his stomach. "Giles?"

"What is your elbow made of?" he groaned, sitting up slowly.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was you!" Yūri apologized frantically, hesitantly offering a hand to help him up. She didn't know how much her efforts would be appreciated.

Giles was about to take her hand when he was suddenly lifted up by the back of his shirt. "Don't be sorry, Yūri," Venus said, glaring at her ex-partner from the corner of her eye as she forced him back on his skates. "I'm sure Badcock had what was coming to him."

"But—" Before she knew it, Venus was already pushing her across the ice and away from her ex-partner. "What if he's hurt?" Yūri asked. She wasn't very fond of the guy but she felt guilty for hitting him accidentally.

Venus let out a short derisive bark. "Yūri, _Titanic_ could crush him and that brain-dead douche wouldn't know it."

That wasn't the most flattering statement, but Yūri knew Venus hadn't meant it as a compliment. Any mention of Giles by Venus was never said without an insult in the same sentence.

* * *

"Hurry, Ciao Ciao's junior boy is going to be on soon!" Phichit called as Yūri stepped off the ice.

Once she removed her skates and stowed them away safely in her locker, Yūri joined her rink mates in the break room while the TV broadcasted the Junior World Championships. Due to the time difference, they had missed the short program for Junior ladies. Thankfully, Celestino's junior in the women's bracket had made it through.

"He's right after a Russian kid," Phichit explained, a smile suddenly creeping onto his face. "Get this: the Russian has the same name as you!"

"You mean—"

"Our next skater, representing Russia: Yuri Plisetsky!" The announcer on TV answered for her. The blond teen she had briefly met in Sochi made his entrance, embracing the applause from the crowd. He'd taken second after the short program but he didn't seem happy about his standing. If the expression on his face as he waited for his music was anything to go by, he was disgruntled. This was a skater who refused to settle for less than gold.

"He looks like an angry Oompa Loompa," Venus commented, getting a snort of laughter from Phichit in response.

Yūri could see his determination throughout his skating, from the triple toe loop with a raised arm to the announcer commenting on the jumps he didn't perform in the first half. Yuri was definitely loading the second half of his program with jumps just to beat Celestino's junior. But could his body handle the abuse he was going to take?

She didn't even know Yuri and she was already worried for him.

"Whoa!" The Detroit skaters yelled at the same time, with Yūri scrambling to sit up. The Russian Yuri had just executed a triple Axel, a loop, and a triple Lutz in combination, his arm raised on the Lutz. "The munchkin stole your combo!"

"He didn't steal it, Venus!" Yūri defended. "Everyone's bound to jump the same combo eventually!"

"I don't know, Yūri," Phichit suggested with a wide grin. "He might be a fan of yours."

"Phichit!" Yūri couldn't find a suitable counter to that. Jump combos weren't a monopoly. Every skater had performed the same combination jump of another skater in the past. Yūri had revealed her new jump combo just last month and now here was Yuri, adding a small detail to it to match his style.

That didn't make Yuri her fan, did it? Maybe his coach had found her jump combo and tried to push his students to learn it as well.

But hadn't Mila found her at the banquet in Sochi and dragged her over to Viktor and Yuri, insisting that she meet an admirer? Hadn't she introduced her to _Yuri_?

Why would Yuri admire her in the first place?

"Yuri Plisetsky!" Yūri snapped out of her reverie to see that the program was over and the Russian Yuri was waving and bowing to the crowd. The look on his face was one of pride. There was one competitor left and Yuri looked so sure that he had already won.

His coach, Yakov Feltsman, didn't look as pleased. Yūri didn't know why he was so upset, seeing as he was speaking to Yuri in Russian with a scowl on his face. Maybe he was scolding Yuri for backloading the second half of the program.

The lecture didn't last for long as the announcer called out Yuri's score, putting him in first place.

* * *

 **Phichit Chulanont**

Yuri Katsuki won the 4CC with a 3A+1Lo+3Lz combo. Yuri Plisetsky won the Junior Worlds with a 3A+1Lo+3Lz combo. _#coincidence? #ithinknot #confirmedfanboy #twoyuris_

 **{Omg! They have the same jump combo!}**

 **{Does this mean Yuri's a fan of Yuri?}**

 **{Which Yuri?}**

 **{If they get married, they'll both be Yuri Plisetsky}**

 **{All right, hold up people! First, figure skaters get inspiration from one another all the time without having to be fans 1/3}**

 **{Yuri probably saw the jump combo and wanted to try it for himself. That doesn't make him a fanboy! 2/3}**

 **{And two, Yuri Katsuki is eight years older than Yuri Plisetsky! And she has a boyfriend who she CLEARLY loves! 3/3}**

 **Yuri Plisetsky**

phichit_chu Let me polish my knife shoes.

 **Phichit Chulanont**

yuri_plisetsky Denial's not just a river in Egypt...

* * *

Yūri woke up to her phone going off like crazy.

Her first action was to check her phone and lie in bed as she browsed through social media. Yūri had been tagged numerous times, causing her to sit up and scream when she found the reason for it.

Who cared if Phichit was a boy and bigger than her? She was going to strangle him! (Maybe Venus was starting to rub off on her because Yūri didn't have violent tendencies until now.)

Her social media-savvy friend had made a post comparing her and the Russian Yuri after the teen's victory, emphasizing their near identical combination jump. Now the world was going crazy over _**#twoyuris**_!

"Yūri!" Yūri jolted in her bed as Venus rushed into her room with her own phone, jumping onto the mattress with a video of the Junior World Championships already pulled up. "You're not going to believe this."

"Celestino's junior—?" Venus shushed her harshly as Celestino's junior girl began her free skate. Why was Venus so worked up? Had the junior landed a quad, just like her parents wanted of her? The announcer had commented on the junior's ambition, stemming from the fact that there was supposed to be a quad later on.

That was probably why. Venus must have been angry that a bunch of stuck-up parents had gotten their way.

Yūri knew the takeoff edge for the toe loop. She counted four rotations, confirming that the junior had learned the quad her parents had angrily fought for. She never expected the crash landing that followed.

Venus winced while Yūri gasped when Celestino's junior girl fell, one of her feet laid out at an unnatural angle. What broke Yūri's heart was seeing the girl trying so hard to get up, only to fall as soon as she was on her feet.

The music stopped as the junior girl began to cry in pain. Yūri spotted Celestino among the first responders, trying to calm one of his youngest students as she was lifted onto a stretcher.

"Her parents must be proud," Venus said coldly as the audience clapped awkwardly, unable to do more to comfort the wailing junior as she was carried off the ice. "Those smug asshats are probably patting themselves on the back right now."

Yūri wanted to scold her. One of their younger rink mates had just been injured, probably beyond repair with no hope of returning to the ice and Venus was shaming the parents? How could she be so callous?!

Yet as the final results for the World Junior Ladies' free skate came in, with Celestino's junior forcibly withdrawn, Yūri wondered if the parents thought the quad attempt was worth the injury.

* * *

 **{** [link] **Seriously guys, this literally broke me heart}**

 **{She was never going to make it. The second she jumped, I knew she wasn't going to land it.}**

 **{Does anyone know what happened? It looked like she twisted her ankle}**

 **{I swear I heard her foot crack when she crashed}**

 **{How could her coach let this happen? He's such a horrible man!}**

 **{He probably thought with Katsuki's almost quad, he could get a younger girl to do a fully rotated quad}**

 **{This is why girls can't do quads}**

 **{Celestino is so abusive!}**

 **Venus Jones**

Since you're so desperate to blame  
someone, blame her stage parents.  
They broke her ankle before the Worlds began.

* * *

The expression on Venus' face was one with little remorse as she answered Celestino's phone call during practice. "Y'ello?"

Yūri had no idea what Celestino was saying on the other end, but it sounded he wasn't happy with something Venus did. "So what if I made that tweet? I wasn't lying."

There was a reason Yūri wasn't as vocal on social media as Phichit, Venus, or any of the other skaters. She was always afraid of saying something that would result in a scandal with no way to repair what was destroyed. Yūri didn't know how others managed to shake off the scandal and carry on with their lives.

She had always wondered how Venus did it.

"And I'm supposed to be worried about that?" Venus snapped into her phone, unimpressed by whatever Celestino had said. "I don't care if her parents are mad that a bunch of my followers sicced CPS on them."

This time, Yūri could hear something that sounded suspiciously like, "I'm getting a manager for you!" from the phone.

"I don't need one, Celestino. I've done perfectly well on my own."

Whatever Celestino said on the other end made Venus' eyebrows rise while her eyes narrowed coldly. "Tae Yi-Rang got what she and her coach deserved!" She hung up abruptly on Celestino.

A sigh came from Yūri's side, causing her to jump when she found Giles next to her. "And this is why guys are too scared of you," he said with an air of mock sadness.

Venus scoffed at her ex-partner with a sneer. "Well, it's a good thing I never had time for men."

Somewhere behind her, Yūri could hear Phichit choking on something. Her head turned in his direction, ignoring Giles' cry of pain—Yūri briefly wondered if Venus had thrown something at him—as she rushed over to pat Phichit's back. "You okay?"

Phichit nodded weakly, gripping his water bottle as he sputtered and hacked. Yūri guessed that he had swallowed water too quickly. "I-I'm fine," he rasped. Once he could breathe without aggravating his lungs, Phichit drank some water while regarding Venus with wide eyes.

With one last look at the ex-partners to make sure they weren't fighting, Yūri stepped out onto the ice. The World Championships was just a week away. If she was going to make it onto the podium, Yūri needed all the time she had left.

Yūri would be lying to herself if she said that she would be happy with only a spot on the podium. Sure, she would be satisfied—but it wouldn't be enough. She wanted the world title, to be crowned the world champion and stand as tall as He Long now and Kim Yuna and Mao Asada in the past…

…and…and even Viktor.

But could she really get up there? This was her very first World Championships in the senior division. Even though she had met the minimum technical score to qualify for Worlds last season, the JSF had assigned her only to the Four Continents after Nationals. And who could blame them? She was a late bloomer. Everyone knew that. Could she really make it onto the podium?

Could she really win the world title?

"Yūri!" A hand fell on her shoulder, making Yūri jolt at the unexpected action. She spun around, taking a step back when she saw Giles before her.

"Hi, Giles." Yūri removed the hand on her shoulder as politely as she could and tried to go back to skating. Unfortunately, Giles only followed her and tried to get her to look at him again.

"Aw, don't be like that, Yūri. I just wanna talk to you."

"You should be training."

"But I don't have a partner."

Yūri felt extremely tempted to snap that it was his own fault he didn't have a partner to skate with anymore. But she didn't have the heart to be that cold to anyone, so she said, "Then practice by yourself."

"But I want to skate with you!" Giles skated in front of her to block her, skating forward while Yūri skidded to a halt to avoid colliding with him.

"I'm not even skating in pairs!" she protested.

"But you did ice dancing!" He skated towards her, wrapping an arm around her to pull her closer. "Come on! It'll be just like skating with the snob from Shanghai!"

Uncomfortable and annoyed, Yūri used the palm of her hands to shove Giles away from her. The male pair skater stumbled back but remained standing. "What the hell?!"

"At least when I skated with He Long," Yūri said coolly, dusting off the front of her clothes, "he actually had _motivation._ " Even if said motivation was an unwilling to lose a bet. "But you? You're lazy, selfish, and you never listen to a thing that anyone says."

"I'm not the villain here!" Giles argued. "It's Venus' fault that I—!"

"Maybe if _somebody_ finally stopped skating like a novice because Venus deserves better than a dime-a-dozen asshole like you!" Yūri snapped.

With deafening silence as the response, Yūri glided away from him. She felt like an iceberg: invincible and magnificent. Once she was off the ice, she shoved her skate guards on and marched past her rink mates without a second glance.

When she was alone in the locker room, the gravity of the situation dawned on her and guilt crashed down all at once. Yūri promptly dropped onto a bench and held her face. "Oh no..."

Had she really just gone off on one of her rink mates? In front of everyone else in the club?

What did they think of her now?

They probably thought she was a bully. (The actual word she was looking for was something else entirely, but Yūri didn't want to swear anymore than she already had.)

"Yūri?" She perked up when she heard Venus behind her but made no move to look at her. "Are you okay, girl?"

"Venus…" Yūri gulped. "I messed up."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"Trust me, you're fine."

"I shouldn't have done that."

"Yeah, you should have chucked your blade guards at him."

"He's just so rude and has his head shoved in the ground and can't even take a hint and I just—I just blew up!"

"Hey, he had it coming for a long time," Venus said nonchalantly.

"I should really go back and apologize."

"You don't have to."

"And that's the problem!" Yūri cried. She wasn't guilty about the fact that she had yelled at a rink mate. What disturbed her was how much she had _enjoyed_ it. "I don't want to apologize! I mean he's annoying and inconsiderate and that's the first time I ever blew up at him so I really should—!"

"We lost our heads with each other practically everyday. Did I ever apologize to him?" Venus pointed out.

No, she didn't. In fact, she never did. When they were still partners, Yūri had assumed that Venus was too proud to admit any faults on her part and apologize first. Every fight between the two was left unresolved but they somehow managed to skate the next day, as if the fight never happened. But now…how much of their problems had always been Giles' fault? "How did you even put up with him in the first place?"

"It's called a contract, sweetie."

"Yours expired!" Yūri's head shot up, the back of it hitting something hard. It turned out to be Venus' head as the two women held their heads where they had collided. "Sorry…" Yūri hadn't even noticed Venus sitting down on the opposite side.

She had forgotten all about the contract that Venus had signed two years ago after her suspension had been lifted. The contract that bound her to Giles until it was time for it to be renewed. Thinking back to the time Giles became a permanent resident at the Detroit Skating Club, it would have expired in February. And Venus announced her plans to Yūri just before the end of the month.

"Pair skating is exciting and all, but I didn't try it for the thrill of it." Venus' voice pulled Yūri out of her reverie, making Yūri feel guilty for tuning out her friend. "I thought I'd finally get somewhere in pairs that I never did in singles. Turns out I was wrong."

Yūri turned to look at her. "You're not—you're not leaving pairs, are you?"

"I am."

"Tell me you're not retiring!"

"What?!" Venus leaned back from her side of the bench until she met Yūri's eyes, her body angled in a reclining position. "Hell no! I'm still young!"

"Then—" If Venus was quitting pair skating, then ice dancing was out of the question. So that meant…that meant… "You're coming back?"

Venus nodded. "I'll be at a disadvantage, especially with that suspension on my name. But the thing is..." She stood up and Yūri had to twist around on the bench to look at her. "I can't depend on a man to get me to the gold anymore."

* * *

Something went wrong.

What went wrong?

 _What happened?_

During the time Venus and Yūri had spent in the locker room, Phichit had been practicing a quad. Celestino said he'd gotten it a few times, but his last attempt resulted in a crash landing that injured his ankle. Now he was in the club physician's office while the skaters waited outside, waiting for the verdict.

 _Please let Phichit be okay._

He had to be okay. In just a few days, they were going to fly out together for Worlds. With Phichit only knowing a few basic words and phrases in Japanese, Yūri had promised to show him around. Phichit had jokingly promised to get Viktor's autograph for her.

Yūri felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around her. She pushed at the arms, but they only tightened their hold. It felt like she was being suffocated. The more she struggled, the more they held fast to her. Frustrated, Yūri dug her nails into an arm until it pulled back in reaction and she pushed whoever it was away from her.

Yūri narrowed her eyes at Giles, who now lay on the floor where she had pushed him. He rubbed at the marks her nails had left on his skin. "I was just trying to help!"

"Don't ever touch me _again_." The words came out in an icy hiss, making the idiotic pair skater flinch. _Finally_ , he had the brains to be scared. Then Yūri realized that the words had come from her.

Maybe if it had been any other time, she would have apologized. But when the physician allowed them to see Phichit, Yūri rushed in without a glance back. "Phichit?"

The Thai skater looked up, his ankle strapped by a plastic cast. "Hi, Yūri," he greeted with a sad smile.

Yūri was afraid to ask, but she knew she wouldn't rest until she knew what happened. "How bad is it?"

Phichit looked down at his strapped ankle, close to tears. "They said it was a sprain. I'm lucky that I didn't tear anything, but...I can't skate for a week."

"A week?" But that meant—

"A week," Phichit repeated, as though he could hear her thoughts. "I have to miss the Worlds." He looked up, doing a double take when he saw her. "Yūri…please don't cry."

"I'm not!" She was trying not to. No tears had fallen, but they threatened to spill from her eyes. Yūri thought that with Phichit, at least there would be one competitor she knew and could talk with.

With Phichit out of the running, she would be alone in Japan.


	11. The Second King's Throne

**For those of you wondering why it looked like an unfamiliar story had updated, I decided to change the title (again). I had my doubts about the title and I feel as though this one actually fits. So for those of you who have been with me since the original title of this story,** To Envy the Swan's Prince, **thank you for putting up with my indecisive self.**

* * *

{v-nikiforov **Yuri Katsuki landed an under-rotated quad. What are your thoughts?}**

{v-nikiforov **What do you think of Yuri Katsuki's almost quad flip?}**

{v-nikiforov **Do you think yuri katsuki will land your quad flip at worlds?}**

 **{As if! No one else can land Victor's jump, especially not a woman and especially not Katsuki!}**

 **Christophe Giacometti**

v-nikiforov If she lands the  
quad flip at worlds, I'll plan  
your wedding.

* * *

Ever since the Four Continents, Viktor's phone had been buzzing with notifications. His fans and fellow skaters messaged him, all looking for his opinion on the girl who attempted a quad flip at the Four Continents.

And who should be at the center of the uproar but Yūri Katsuki?

Quad jumps were hardly ever done in ladies' singles. Scratch that, they were never done. The only exception had been Miki Ando, years ago when she was a teenager. To know that a grown woman had attempted not just a quad, but his signature jump, that…that…

He didn't know what to feel.

He was elated, that was for sure. Yūri Katsuki almost landed his quad flip. It was like she was reaching out to him, asking for the chance to come closer. And Viktor was more than willing to let her, so long as she stayed. And that was just…

With his loyal poodle resting on his lap, Viktor pulled up the video of Yūri's gold medal free skate from the Four Continents. Celestino Cialdini must be aiming for a gold at the Worlds to have given her an aggressive jump combo. Was he also hoping to help her land a quad?

At the program's end, when the audience showered the ice with gifts, Viktor frowned in concern as Yūri picked up a wrapped bouquet before tensing up and looking… _terrified_. She looked ready to drop the flowers but instead she looked forward, trying her best not to look at it.

How had he not noticed that?

It was then that Viktor remembered that the day they had watched the Four Continents together, Yuri had kicked him. The Russian Fairy had been displeased with how absorbed Viktor was with the Japanese Yuri's routine. (As if Yuri hadn't been doing the same.) With his undivided attention on Yuri while Mila and Georgi had argued over the last jump, not one of them would have seen that bit.

But what was it about the bouquet that had scared her that much?

* * *

Viktor thought that it would be a normal day when he arrived at the rink. Georgi would be texting his ice dancer girlfriend, Mila would be flirting with her hockey boyfriend as the hockey players handed the ice off to them, and Yuri would be gagging at the sights. And Viktor would train for the Worlds before he finally had to consider what he would do for the inevitable season. All while Yakov yelled at all of them to stop fooling around.

"That fucking bastard!" Yuri's voice screeched from the lunchroom. Curious, Viktor popped his head in at the same time a phone hit him in the face.

Viktor cried out in pain as he held his face, all while Yuri howled in triumph. Behind himself, Viktor could hear Yakov's thundering footsteps. They came to a stop beside him, presumably as Yakov took in the scene. "Yuri Plisetsky! Explain yourself!" Yakov screamed at his youngest student while Viktor gingerly rubbed his nose. Thank goodness it wasn't broken.

Instead of answering, Yuri stomped over and snatched his phone up from where it had landed after hitting Viktor. The living legend found it amazing that the Russian Fairy's phone didn't crack at all. "None of your business, old man," he grumbled, as though he hadn't used his phone as a projectile.

"Yuri!" Yakov followed furiously after Yuri, who kicked open a door and marched through.

Viktor looked to Georgi, whose face was a portrait of fear mixed with astonishment. "What set off little Yura this time?" Viktor asked.

"The Japanese Yuri," Georgi answered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Oh?" Viktor should have known she had some part in it. Anything regarding the Japanese angel made Yura volatile, particularly towards Viktor. He still remembered how Yuri struck his chin in Sochi after Viktor correctly guessed that he had a crush on her. Did Yuri really think that his violent temper would attract her? "What about her?"

"Yuri found a picture of her in Seoul today."

"In Seoul?" Now he was confused. Yūri was going to compete in the World Championships—her first ever!—in less than a month. She should be training, not sightseeing in a foreign country. "Why is she in South Korea?"

"That's the part Yura got angry about," Georgi explained. "Someone said that she was there to see someone named—" His rinkmate scrunched up his face in concentration, as if he were trying to remember. "—Yu-an He Long?" he finished uncertainly.

Viktor narrowed his eyes as the last syllable left Georgi's mouth. Now that explained Yuri's tantrum very well. "No wonder."

"Do you know who that is? Yuri seems to know him—is he in Juniors as well?"

Viktor shook his head slowly. "Yuan is a speed skater," he told Georgi.

"A speed skater?" Georgi asked incredulously. "Why would Yura follow speed skating?"

"He's not interested in the sport—" And probably never would have acknowledged it, if it hadn't been for the other Yuri. "—but Yuan is the Japanese Yuri's boyfriend."

Georgi did a double take at this. "A speed skater and a figure skater? And they're making it work?"

Against all odds, the answer was yes.

And why not? Yuan clearly loved her—Viktor had watched how the speed skater had held her dark hair (the lucky bastard) as though he were handling delicate silk. He crafted that ornate hairpin that Yūri proudly wore. He came all the way to Sochi just to surprise her, something that Mila's own boyfriend didn't do. Now Yūri had done the same. And that was just…just...

 _Incredible._

Was that what it was like to be in love?

* * *

 **mila-babicheva**

yuri-plisetsky Guess who~? Trololol [Picture of Yuri Katsuki and Yuan He Long at an ice rink]

 **yuri-plisetsky**

mila-babicheva to hell with you, baba!

* * *

Hours before their flight, Yakov was overseeing some last minute training with Yuri. He did have to scream at the Russian Fairy several times to get off his phone. If his scowls were anything to go by, Yura must have found more pictures of the Japanese Yuri and the speed skater together.

"What is he thinking, letting her take a break right now?" Yakov muttered, glancing at his phone before returning his attention to Yuri. Viktor wondered if Yakov had found out about Yūri as well. "You're traveling on your spins!"

Yuri stomped his skate into the ice to stop himself. "I barely moved a centimeter!" Yuri yelled back.

"You might as well have traveled to Sochi!" Yakov looked at his phone again. "And it's about time those two split. It was a terrible match to begin with. Why in the world did Cialdini keep that girl after the debacle she caused?"

Viktor cocked his head, curious as to what his coach meant. He couldn't have been referring to Yūri, could he? Yakov didn't care for his skaters' love lives, so long as they didn't interfere with their skating. And if Yūri had split apart from her boyfriend, Yuri would have been more ecstatic.

So if it wasn't the Japanese Yuri, who was Yakov talking about?

* * *

[Picture of overall world champion Yuan He Long and Yuri Katsuki]

 _#couplegoals #yuanhelong #yurikatsuki #speed skating #short track #worlds_

{ **A king and his queen** _#yutsuki #myshiphassailed #couplegoals_ }

{ **A king and his princess** _#yurikatsuki #notqueenyet_ }

{ **I want somebody to look at me like Yuri looks at Yuan** #yutsuki}

{ **Please take care of Yuri!** }

 **mila-babicheva**

yuri-plisetsky *insert evil laughter*

 **yuri-plisetsky**

mila-babicheva Just wait till I get  
back from Hungary, baba!  
v-nikiforov if i can't unsee this,  
neither should you, old man!

* * *

Viktor should have wanted for nothing. There should have been nothing that was missing in his life. Years of successful seasons, each with new endorsements, guaranteed that he would live the rest of his days in comfort. With his looks and charm, he could have anyone he wanted. But right now, he couldn't.

Viktor hated this feeling.

The jealousy that reared its ugly head within him when he saw the picture that Yuri shared with him. The jealousy that boiled when he was met by the sight of Yūri held aloft by the Lucky Bastard after his victory in Korea. The jealousy that he felt, wishing that he was the one holding her in his arms.

 _It wasn't fair!_

"Yuri, davai!" Mila cheered, pulling Viktor out of his head as Yuri took to center ice on TV. The Russian Fairy had an annoyed look on his face, as though he could hear her all the way from Russia. Viktor was prepared to bet that part of his mood stemmed from his anger towards the recent photo of Yūri and the speed skater.

But skating to _Romeo and Juliet_ in a rage? Well, it helped that Yuri's music opened on an ominous note. "Don't tell me he's backloading," Mila murmured after Yuri executed a triple toe loop instead of the jump combo originally planned.

"Coach Yakov won't be happy with him afterwards," Georgi added as Yuri went straight into a double jump combo in the second half.

"Hey!" The Russian skaters sat up in their seats at the triple jump combo. "That's the same combo Yūri did at the Four Continents!"

"Is it that surprising, Mila?" Viktor asked, smiling from knowing the reason Yuri had chosen that particular jump combo.

"He must really like the Japanese Yuri's skating," Georgi said as Yuri went into his ending spin.

Viktor and Mila couldn't stifle their laughter in time.

* * *

When Yuri returned to the club with their coach, Yakov was already in the middle of a lecture. The Russian skaters looked up to see Yakov follow Yuri into the lunch room. "Now do you understand why I don't allow juniors to do quads?"

"I got it already, just leave me alone," Yuri groaned, slumping into a chair. "She was never going to land it, not with all the fat food they serve in America."

"Yuri!" Yakov roared. "When everyone else is finished this season, we'll begin but for now quads are off limits!"

"What happened?" Viktor asked.

"A junior girl from America tried to do a quad," Yuri answered with a snort. "Went and kissed the ice goodbye, too."

Georgi sat up and swallowed his borscht. "I heard about that! People are mad at her coach, aren't they?"

"Cialdini originally took the brunt, but one of his seniors redirected it to the junior's parents," Yakov corrected, holding the hat that covered his balding head. As he walked away, Viktor could hear him grumble, "I warned that man not to keep her. We all warned him after the incident that she would give him trouble and look what's happened."

* * *

 **2016 World Figure Skating Championships**

Changes to initial assignments

 **Announced:** March 12, 2016  
 **Initial** : Venus Jones/Giles Badcock  
 **Country:** United States  
 **Discipline:** Pairs  
 **Reason/Other notes:** Dissolved  
 **Replacement:** XXXX/XXXX

 **Announced:** March 24, 2016  
 **Initial:** Phichit Chulanont  
 **Country:** Thailand  
 **Discipline:** Men  
 **Reason/Other notes:** Chulanont's ankle injury  
 **Replacement:** No substitute

* * *

 **Yoyogi National Gymnasium, Tokyo, Japan**

After the men's short program, Viktor felt his phone go off. One glance at the lock screen told him that Chris sent him a photo along with a short text.

 **Chris** : Guess who~

Viktor opened his messages, expecting to find a flirty photo of Chris somewhere around Yoyogi Park. He did not expect to find a photo of Yūri Katsuki in the stands, taken a considerable distance away.

Seeing proof that she had watched the men's section surprised him when it shouldn't have. She was probably there to cheer for a rinkmate or another Japanese skater.

Was it too much to hope that she had come to see him?

* * *

Yakov insisted on the two of them coming to watch Mila's short program, making Viktor and Georgi drop whatever plans they had to tour the city. Even without Yakov's orders, Viktor would have come, but not wholly for Mila.

Viktor tried not to cringe at the sight of Georgi and his ice dancer girlfriend engaged in a rather one-sided romantic display. Thank goodness they were sitting away from from him.

The Russian skating legend looked over to see Chris sit down with him, a smug grin on the Swiss' face. "I thought I'd find you here," he said.

"So what brings you here?" Viktor asked as a Korean skater was called up to start her program.

"I wanted to go sight-seeing, but my coach said otherwise," Chris sighed unhappily, managing to be heard over the lyrics " _mama, I'm a big girl now_ ". "And that is a terrible choice of music if you want the judges to score you seriously," he added, turning his attention to the rink as though the Korean girl would be able to hear him.

"Our next skater, representing Japan—" Viktor ignored Chris' snickering when his spun towards the ice. "Yūri _Katsuki_!"

The stadium, filled primarily with Japanese spectators, exploded as Yūri skated a lap around the ice. Around Viktor, fans waved national flags, banners, and sign that said— "Welcome back, Yūri!" Chris yelled out the very same words on the sign that Viktor had looked at.

Viktor looked at him in confusion. "Welcome back?" he asked.

Chris looked at him briefly before nodding at the ice. "About four years ago, Yūri took a break. She came back last season and look at her now."

Viktor returned his attention to the rink as Yūri stopped at center ice to skate to "The Girl Who Fell From the Sky". As she got into position, someone yelled out, " _Yūri-senshu, daisuki!_ " The entire stadium erupted in laughter, even Chris couldn't hold back a snort. Yūri, on the other hand, appeared to blush on the monitor and covered her face with the sleeve of her costume.

As the music began, she lowered her arm and began to skate. Viktor sucked in a breath when Yūri almost fell on her opening triple Lutz but stayed on her feet. "Oh, no," Chris murmured. "There was supposed to be a toe loop after that."

"She can add it on to one of her jumps, there's still time." But the Russian winced as Yūri executed a triple Axel-triple toe combo, only to actually fall on the toe.

"Viktor, just shut up. I think you're cursing her."

As much as he hated to say it, it was miserable to watch. It wasn't nearly as bad as any of Pogorilaya's performances but Yūri wasn't on top of it today. As Yūri got up from her ending combination spin, Viktor knew that even she knew how terrible her program was.

The audience applauded as though they were trying to console her, but there was nothing to be done as she skated to the kiss and cry with her head bowed in disappointment. Celestino tried to cheer her up but even he couldn't get her to lift her head as her score was announced. "She's in thirteenth place," Chris noted with a grimace. "There's fifteen more more skaters left."

In both singles' divisions, only the top twenty-four would advance to the free skate. If all of the remaining skaters, including Mila, skaters placed any higher than her, Yūri would be out of the competition.

The remaining short programs seemed to go by in a blur. Mila, as predicted, placed within the top ten along with Michele Crispino's sister. Each program only seemed to knock Yūri further and further down the roster. Any dreams that Viktor had of her standing with him as a world champion were gone.

After the final woman received her score, the current standings were released. Mila would be skating in the third group for her free skate along with Sara Crispino in two days. The last six names of the women moving on to the free skate had Viktor sitting up. "Merci," Chris said in relief next to him, but Viktor couldn't care.

Yūri Katsuki was in twenty-fourth place.

She had scored not even half a point higher than the woman in twenty-fifth.

* * *

[ **Yuri Katsuki Worlds SP** ]

 **{Please don't give up, Yuri!}**

 **{She looked like she was in pain}**

 **{I think what messed her up was the 'daisuki' before she started}**

 **{She probably gamed too much weight in Korea}**

 **{Dude, seriously? You're gonna make this a weight issue? It's idiots like you that make people resort to anorexia!}**

* * *

Viktor smiled as the cameras went off, capturing him with his fellow medalists. Chris had placed second and sitting to Viktor's left was a young Kazakh by the name of Otabek Altin. The Russian briefly glanced at the boy, who stared at the photographers and reporters with stern eyes.

"Mister Nikiforov." Viktor looked up to look at the reporter in question. "What are your plans for next season?"

Viktor held a finger to his lips as he pondered what to say. If he didn't answer as soon as he could, rumors would circulate that he was going to retire. But as much as he still wanted to skate...he didn't want to anymore. And that...that...

That _terrified_ him.

* * *

 **Yurio's free skate music was Nino Rota's music for the 1968 film** Romeo and Juliet **.**

 **As for** **Yūri, she skated to Joe Hisaishi's** The Girl Who Fell from the Sky. **It's part of the soundtrack of the movie** Castle in the Sky.


	12. The Uncrowned Queen

**Katsuki Tumbles to Last Place**

Japanese ladies' figure skater Yuri Katsuki is the two-time Four Continents champion who also had the most momentum going into the World Championships in her home country. She had not put a foot wrong at previous competitions during the season. But a disastrous short program at the World Championships left the former Japanese medal hopeful hanging for her life in twenty-fourth place.

Katsuki, a twenty-three year old figure skater from Hasetsu, Kyushu, made her senior debut at 18 but took a two-year break before…(Click to read the full article)

 **{Katsuki? More like Kat-sucky!}**

 **{She should retire}**

 **{She should have retired years ago!}**

 **{Leave her alone! She just had a bad day!}**

* * *

Usually during a car ride, Yūri would stare out the window and look at the scenery they passed. Unlike Phichit, who could always be found on social media during a road trip, Yūri avoided using her phone. Trying to read in a moving vehicle made her sleepy or groggy. But today Yūri browsed through the numerous articles written about the World Championships, unable to quell her apprehensive curiosity.

"Put that away," Celestino advised. "Looking at the news won't do you any good."

"'Katsuki Tumbles to Last Place'," Yūri read quietly. "'Will this season be her last one?' …Probably," she added to herself.

"Yūri." Celestino was never harsh, but his voice was stern enough that Yūri finally looked away from her phone. Come to think of it, this was the first time she had looked at him since she received her short program score. After that, it seemed like Celestino was in a hurry to get her out of the stadium.

He was probably embarrassed because of her. Why wouldn't he be? That was the worst score she ever had this season, almost as bad as the score she had received when she made her senior debut.

When the taxi stopped at their hotel, Yūri got out first. She was just as embarrassed as Celestino to even look at him, much less be around him. The lobby was even worse. There weren't many people milling around, but it felt like everyone was looking at her. Yūri pressed the elevator button repeatedly as if that would get the doors to open faster. Once she was safe inside, the elevator began to ascend at the same time her phone rang.

Without even one glance at the caller ID, Yūri held her phone up to her ear. "Hello?"

"I saw your short program. Yūri, are you all right?" Yūri should have known Venus would be awake right now. Even if she had refused to go to Worlds, she would still be watching the competition.

"I'm fine. I'm just tired."

"Yūri, we both know you're not tired. How are you really?"

"Venus, please…just leave me alone."

"Yūri—" Without warning, Yūri hung up on Venus at the same time the elevator doors opened on her floor. She dragged her feet to her room, slowly unlocking the door only to slam it shut once she was inside.

Her phone rang once again. Yūri considered rejecting the call, only to see that her mother was calling her. "Hello, mom?"

"Yūri!" It was comforting to hear her mother's voice, even if she wasn't physically with her at the moment. "Yūri, are you all right?"

"Mom, I'm fine."

"We were all so worried about you after your program. Your father, Mari, Vicchan—Minako and the guests can't get any sleep."

"The guests? Did you have a viewing party?" Yūri asked. Great, now everyone at home knew how badly she had failed. "You gotta be kidding, Mom! I'm gonna die!"

Knowing that her family had seen her botched short program, Yūri knew that she couldn't put on an indifferent front an longer. "Mom, I'm sorry. I lied. I messed up." Before her mother could reply, Yūri lowered her phone and ended the call.

Her eyes started to sting. Today was supposed to be her big day. Today was supposed to be her day to show Japan—the world, even—that she hadn't taken two years away from the ice for nothing. Everything should have gone perfectly.

But before the start of her short program, someone had shouted, " _Yūri, I love you!_ " The entire stadium had burst into laughter then. Whether it was because they found the idea of anyone liking her hilarious or if they were laughing at her, Yūri had no idea. Her face had flushed in anger and embarrassment then and all she could think during her short program, the audience's laughter ringing in her ears even after it had died out, was, _"Shut up, shut up, shut up!"_

With every stumble and fall, it felt like the laughter was getting louder. By the time she finished, Yūri swore that among the applause, there was laughter as well. She had refused to look at anyone the whole time in the kiss and cry, trying to drown out everything she heard. To top it all off, she was in twenty-fourth at the end of the day. There was no way she could get back from this.

Tears spilled over as she slid down to the floor, the hard surface of the door offering her the only support it could. The sobs she had held back at the stadium escaped at last, and Yūri curled in on herself as she cried alone in her room.

She really was pathetic, wasn't she?

* * *

By the time Yūri woke up, it was already noon. The men's free skate would start in a little less than seven hours.

She didn't want to get up. That meant she would have to leave the safety of her room and eventually be cornered by the press, who would ask invading questions about her last place finish in the short program. As it was, Yūri was in no mood to talk to anyone.

Her phone went off, prompting her to check the notification. Actually, she had several.

 **Phichit:** Don't give up, Yuri!

 **Nishigori Yuko** : You can still do it, Yuri!

Yūri smiled at the photo attached to Yuko's message, one that included her triplets. Each of the girls held a fan to spell out the message "Be strong, Yuri!"

Yūri would be lying if she said she wasn't disturbed by the lack of response from Venus. The Japanese skater thought that Venus had listened to Yūri's request, but found it unlikely. The biracial skater wasn't one to let things die so easily.

Now that Yūri thought about it, Venus would probably get her out of bed by saying, "Rome didn't conquer the world by sitting on its ass all day!" The fact that she knew her friend so well made Yūri let out a small laugh. That small thought was enough to get Yūri to pull herself into the shower, having never washed away yesterday's sweat and tears.

But what could she do? She already knew she wanted to watch the men's free skate, but that wasn't until another couple hours. Yūri could practice on the ice until then, but that meant being bombarded by the press the second she stepped off. There was no way to avoid them.

In the end, Yūri headed over to the arena to practice. If she was going to redeem herself, then she had to face the music eventually. Yūri started by skating figures. Even if it had long since been removed as a requirement in figure skating, it helped.

Once she was done warming up, Yūri decided to try her jumps, starting with the triple flip. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to hold the edge and flubbed her landing. Gritting her teeth, Yūri pulled herself up and tried again.

Was she or was she not the same girl who under-rotated the first quad flip in women's figure skating? If she could do that in competition at the Four Continents, shouldn't she be able to land a triple flip in practice now?

When Yūri fell on her triple flip again, she didn't even try to pull herself up. What was the point? She already knew she was going to end up last by the end of this. She might as well prepare for the inevitable heartbreak when He Long breaks up with her.

Remembering the Chinese short track speed skater made Yūri return to her feet. Now she was being silly. He Long cared about her enough that Yūri knew he wouldn't end their relationship because of this loss. But as it was, what right did she have to keep a world champion by her side if she herself could never be one?

What right did Yūri have to deserve to be called his empress?

Yūri skated towards the center of the ice. Even if there was no music, she could still practice her free skate. It was better this way. After all, He Long was the one who chose the music for her.

It wasn't that she hated the song. No, she loved it, but how He Long managed to get Celestino to let her skate to this, she had no idea. Celestino was under no obligation to listen to a speed skater over his own students.

Yūri hummed the song to keep herself in the rhythm of the program.

* * *

 _"How does this version make you feel?" He Long tapped on his phone to start the music._

 _Yūri tilted her head in consideration as she listened to the song. "The melody sounds dramatic for a sad song. It's like letting the whole world know about your sorrows."_

 _"It's supposed to be a song about someone who doesn't know that what they're feeling is love. This version sounds more like someone who recognizes that they are," He Long explained, scrolling up before tapping on a different video. "And this?"_

 _The music that played sounded like the same song, but a more gentle version. It felt like a lullaby, only without the sleep-inducing effect. "I like this one," she admitted. "But…what do the lyrics mean?"_

* * *

Of course he had explained the lyrics to her. He had also made her watch the Korean drama that the song was used for to help her get a feel for the character she needed to portray. And Phichit, a gigantic sucker for Korean dramas, had watched with them.

"It's time to start the next practice," the announcer called. Yūri snapped out of her reverie to see the other skaters leaving the ice, prompting her to do the same.

Yūri slipped her blade guards on and sat down on a bench to unlace her skates. She stopped when a pair of sneakers stopped in front of her. Inside, she prayed that it wasn't a reporter. There was no way a reporter would wear sneakers, right?

She looked up tentatively, relaxing when she found the Swiss skater standing before her. "Hi, Chris."

" _Bonjour_ , Yūri~" Chris sat down next to her to lace his own skates. After watching the men's short program, Yūri knew that the Swiss was in sixth place. She also knew that no matter how he placed in the short program at any competition, he was always on the podium by the end of the free skate.

How did he manage to do that?

"You're in a very interesting place right now, Yūri," Chris said, moving onto his right skate once he was done with his left.

She blinked. "Sorry?"

Chris looked up. "Right now, you're in twenty-fourth place."

Yūri groaned and hid her face in her hands. "Please don't remind me, Chris." She did _not_ want to think about her own placement for the time being.

"But it's interesting, Yūri! The free skate is unpredictable! You might be able to come back and win the whole thing!"

Yūri pulled her hands away to look at the Swiss. "Chris, I know you're trying to make me feel better, but you've never been dead last out of twenty-four skaters, have you?"

" _Mon Dieu!_ " Chris clutched his chest and put a hand to his forehead in a show of agony. "The tiny lady has wounded me! Medic!" Yūri turned away in an attempt to hide the small sputter that escaped from Chris' dramatic display.

"But really, Yūri, I've seen your free skate scores for this season," Chris said, recomposing himself. "You'll be able to finish in the top ten by tomorrow."

"I think the top ten is a little too much to hope for, Chris."

"It is not," he insisted. "You'll be skating first tomorrow, yes?" When Yūri nodded, Chris continued, "Everyone knows that the first one to skate sets the standard for the rest to beat. Make it so that they can't. You already have a triple Axel. But if you land an under-rotated quad like you did at the Four Continents, you'll scare enough of them that you'll finish higher than expected."

Yūri nodded slowly in consideration. It made sense, but could she manage an actual quad? She could get all the rotations for a triple, but she couldn't control her own speed to land without earning an over-rotation. Could she do it this time? "Thank you, Chris."

"You're welcome, Yūri." Chris stood up and took off his skate guards, placing them on the bench. "Now, wish me luck as I try to get silver."

"Why would you aim for silver?" Yūri asked.

"Because I can't get gold as long as Viktor is around," Chris replied before stepping out onto the ice.

Yūri felt sad for Chris. Even though he was skilled enough to match Viktor's skating skills, the Swiss had resigned himself to silver. The Russian legend earned gold after gold, making him impossible to reach. She wondered if Chris ever resented Viktor for that.

Speaking of Viktor... "Chris!" Yūri got off the bench and ran to the rink boards. "Can I ask you something?"

" _Oui?_ "

Yūri felt silly for even thinking of the question, but she was curious as well. Chris was close enough to Viktor that he probably knew everything. "Do you know why Viktor skated to Hellfire?" she blurted out.

Chris stared at her and Yūri began to worry that he thought she was crazy for asking in the first place. A grin slowly formed on the Swiss skater's face before Chris—who towered over her at six feet—fell to his knees and laughed hysterically, holding onto the rink boards for support.

"…was I not supposed to ask?" Yūri asked, wondering if Chris could hear her over his own laughter.

Eventually his laughter began to die out and Chris looked up at her. " _Un jour_ ," he gasped, still shaking in laughter. " _Je te dirai sans rire un jour_."

While Yūri didn't speak French, she recognized a few basic words to know that Chris said something about without laughing someday. "Did he do it because he's in love with somebody?" Chris only nodded, pressing his lips firmly into a line in an attempt to compose himself.

Yūri wondered who could have made a world champion like Viktor Nikiforov so lovesick that he skated Hellfire because of them. It wasn't a romantic love song. It was a song of obsession. "He must like them that badly to skate to Hellfire."

"Yes," Chris finally said, an odd smile on his face like he was trying not to laugh again. "Yes, he does."

* * *

The men's free skates seemed to pass in a blur. At least, that was how it felt to Yūri. She didn't pay attention to many of the skates except whenever a Japanese skater was called up.

Chris was fantastic. Not one mistake was made, putting him in first place. Jean-Jacques Leroy—the Canadian who placed second in the short program—flubbed the landing on one of his jumps, putting him in third place.

"Our last skater, representing Russia: Viktor Nikiforov!" Yūri clapped with the audience as the living legend skated out, basking in the crowd's excitement. Having placed first in the short program out of all the skaters, he was the clear favorite to win. The audience knew to expect him triumphant afterwards and they would be surprised all the same. Viktor lived for surprising everyone.

* * *

 **[** Viktor Nikiforov Worlds FS **]**

 **{Winner of five consecutive world championships, is this man even human?}**

 **{Nope, he's a god}**

 **{I was really hoping for Chris to get the gold this year!}**

 **{If Victor is anywhere on a roster, the other skaters just fight for silver and bronze}**

 **{Congratulations on your fifth world title, Viktor!}**

* * *

The next day, Yūri woke up to numerous messages wishing her good luck. Celestino was already waiting for her in the lobby to head to the rink. "I know how hard you've been on yourself since the short program," he said as they walked together towards the taxi. "I want you to know that no matter how you place today, I'll still be proud of you, Yūri."

Having gone a day without speaking to her coach, Yūri thought he would have been too ashamed to even speak to her. Hearing him say that he still had faith in her reassured her. "Thank you."

Yūri swore that time was messing with her today. Yesterday had gone by so slowly as if it were mocking her. Now it was too fast, practice passing by so quickly that before she knew it, the pair skating competition was already over and it was time to start the ladies' free skate.

And Yūri would be the one to start it all.

She was in twenty-fourth place, hardly anything special. With her ranked so low, Japan would look to Mao Asada and the other Japanese woman who had managed to qualify to restore the country's honor. No one would pay attention to her. Not when they had already given up on her.

Somehow, it felt nice to be free of everyone's expectations.

So she told herself, but when it was time for Group 1 to warm up, Yūri had to skate figures to calm herself down. She could practically hear everyone wondering why she hadn't retired by now.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the other skaters in her group leave the ice. Finding that Celestino was waving her over, Yūri skated towards him. This was the last bit of reassurance she would ever get before she was called up.

"Deep breaths," Celestino said and Yūri closed her eyes as she breathed in slowly. "I know how much you enjoy this song. Just focus on the music and nothing else."

" _It's time to start the free program for ladies' figure skating_ ," the announcer called, prompting Yūri to open her eyes.

Celestino patted her shoulder. "Good luck, Yūri."

Yūri nodded and turned around, skating towards the center of the ice. "Our first skater, representing Japan: Yūri Katsuki!"

Yūri skated one lap around the center, breathing in and out. She was nervous, but now wasn't the time for that. She needed to do her free skate.

Yūri stopped in the center of the ice, getting into position. As she waited, a soft hush made itself known and the audience, thinking that somebody among themselves started it, echoed the sound. But the initial sound wasn't from them. That was how her program started: with the soft hush of rain.

Yūri began to skate when her actual music began. Right now was no time for her to be scared. She was supposed to be Miho, the nine-tailed fox who charmed men without even knowing it. Yūri had almost laughed at the start of the season because He Long had described Miho as an air-headed femme fatale.

Instead of the triple Salchow that was originally planned, she went for a triple loop. As foolish as that was for Yūri, knowing that Celestino would be on her for that change once this was over, she wanted to redeem herself after her short program.

Yūri rose out of her spin. The heart had no choice but to follow love, unaware of the heartbreak that would come about from a hopeless love. It must have hurt so much for the character Miho to be stood up on her wedding day.

After her first jump combo, Yūri began her step sequence. Now that she thought about it, hadn't she fallen in love with He Long the same way? Her stupid heart pounding like crazy that like an idiot, she didn't know what to do with herself?

Actually, she remembered it had been a little different as she went straight into a triple Axel when she reached the second half of the program. She hadn't fallen for him instantly and neither had he. In fact, they never would have interacted if it hadn't been for Phichit.

Yūri prepared herself for her final jump combo: triple Axel, single loop, triple Lutz. She could hear the crowd cheering when she landed them all without a hitch. Her final jumps would be after the choreographic sequence.

She rose from her combination spin and proceeded to start her choreographic sequence. Yūri almost felt like Miho, who had explored her new surroundings with excitement after being trapped for centuries. Realizing that she was a little ahead of the music, Yūri picked up speed and glided across the ice in an arabesque spiral, changing the edge before lowering her free leg and swivelling around for her triple toe loop. Once she landed, Yūri spun across the ice in a twizzle before she reached for her right leg and held it up in a Y-spiral, letting go to kick off for a triple flip.

The last of her jumps completed, Yūri entered her final combination spin. But when she came to a stop, the music fading as the audience cheered loudly, her vision was filled with black spots and her head ached.

Yūri knew without a doubt that she had spun too fast. Celestino had warned her about this when she had brought her newfound speed with her from her brief stint in speed skating. Yūri bowed, wondering how ridiculous it looked to not know where she was bowing. Slowly, as her vision returned to her, she skated away from the center, ready to receive her scores.

Except Yūri skated the wrong way and by the time she realized where she was going, she was skating towards a fan who was holding something out to her. Yūri reached out for the present, skating away once she had it in her hands and examined the gift inside the cellophane wrap. It looked like a white and black poodle plush with some blue in its fur. Come to think of it, wasn't there a Pokémon just like this?

When she realized what it was, Yūri let out a small delighted laugh. Someone had given her a Trimmien!

Celestino greeted her with a hug. "That was the best you've skated it all season," he said as she put her skate guards back on. "But don't think that the quad toe distracted me from the triple loop earlier."

Yūri hummed in response as she put her team jacket on. It was only when they were seated at the kiss and cry that Yūri fully took in his words and turned to Celestino. "A quad toe loop?"

"Right after that impromptu spiral, you completed four rotations," Celestino explained, furrowing his brows. "Didn't you count?"

Yūri shook her head. "No." By now, Yūri was convinced she had spun too fast and given herself an internal concussion. Celestino wasn't telling her she had landed a quad, was he?

" _The free program score for Yūri Katsuki._ " Yūri slowly turned to look at the small monitor in front of them. As her score appeared, Yūri blinked in disbelief and leaned closer to make sure she wasn't imagining the WR next to her score. "Is that mine?" she asked Celestino as her score was announced. The Italian man had a wide grin on his face as he rejoiced with the crowd.

"Is that mine?" she asked again. There was no way that astronomical score—which was beyond the record held by Kim Yuna—next to her name belonged to her.

"Yes, that's yours!" Celestino confirmed, hugging her tightly.

 _"She is currently in first place!"_

* * *

[ **Yuri Katsuki Worlds FS WR!** ]

 **{YES! My baby landed a quad toe AND set a world record!}**

 **{Her reaction to her score is so adorable! The way she says "Is that mine?" like she can't believe what she did}**

 **{5:00 SOMEONE GAVE HER A FURFROU WITH THE QUEEN CUT!}**

 **{Isn't that Yuzu?}**

 **{5:02 You can just barely see Yuzuru jumping up and down after Yuri accepts his gift and his rinkmate teasing him}**

 **{Congratulations Miss Yuri!}**

* * *

Yūri's phone blew up with congratulations from her friends and family. She had gotten several colorful texts from Phichit, ranging from shocked to crying before finally congratulating her on her new world record and quad toe loop.

Yūri looked around at the other two skaters in the room with her. She hated the cruel waiting game the officials set up. The current leaders of the free skate waited in a separate room, leaving one by one when the skater who just finished their routine placed high enough to displace the skater who formerly held third place.

And Yūri had been here the longest, her Trimmien plush her constant companion through it all. She lost track of how many skaters there were that still had to skate, not when everyone who skated after her left the room as quickly as they had come.

It was so boring in here, too...

"Yūri?"

Yūri opened her eyes to see Sara kneeling in front of the couch, eye level with her. The Japanese skater hurriedly sat up, realizing that she must have dozed off without knowing it. "I'm so sorry, Sara! I didn't mean to fall asleep during your program—!"

Sara hushed her as she patted her shoulders. "It's all right. You've been here the longest. No wonder you got tired."

"Is it Mila's turn yet?" Yūri asked, looking at the TV.

"Mila just finished," Sara said. True to her word, Mila was waiting in the kiss and cry with Yakov. "Oh!" she exclaimed, surprised by the number one next to Mila's score. "She's in first place now," Sara explained with a guilty look towards Yūri.

Why was Sara guilty? It wasn't her fault she and Mila had placed higher than her in the short program. Even with a lower free skate score, they would've been able to score above her. Still, Yūri couldn't help the small twinge of disappointment. "What are the rankings now?"

"I'm third, you're second," Sara said as the former third place skater left the room, "and Mila—"

"Yūri!" Yūri turned around in time to be greeted by Mila tackling her on the couch. "I'm so happy to see you here!"

"Mila!" Yūri pushed herself up as Mila got off of her and examined her plush Pokémon.

"That's an interesting poodle," she noted, playing with the toy's ears. "I don't think Viktor's ever gotten anything like this and he loves poodles."

"Really?"

Mila nodded while on TV, the last group started their warm up. "Does it have a name?" she asked.

"It's a Pokémon called Trimmien," Yūri explained as Mila handed the toy back to her.

"Oh..." Mila nodded in understanding. "So that's why. They probably think Viktor is too old to be interested in Pokémon."

" _Our next skater_ ," the announcer on TV said, serving as the cue for the skaters currently in the lead to settle down and watch.

"Was that a flutz or a lip?" Sara asked during the program, referring to two common technical flaws when a skater tried to execute the Lutz and the flip.

"Hard to tell," Mila confessed. "It looked like a flat edge takeoff. She'll get docked harshly on her GOE for that."

When the current skater finished, the scores showed that she placed fourth. "Break time," Mila said, getting her phone out and extending her arm away from herself. "Smile! Hashtag reunion!"

Yūri should have suspected from that point that Mila had jinxed them all. But it felt nice to be back with her fellow Grand Prix Final medalists that Yūri let herself get comfortable.

And then the second-to-last skater placed first.

Faces fell as they took in the number one next to the skater's score, which knocked Mila and Yūri one spot down the podium and kicked Sara off of it. The two hugged the Italian skater before waving her goodbye.

"Last up is Pogorilaya," Mila murmured to Yūri as the current first place finisher entered the room. "And everyone knows she can't stick her landings even if the rink was filled with glue."

"Aren't you a little mean to her?" Yūri asked. Unfortunately, it was true. Yūri had seen Pogorilaya's outrageous falls. As Johnny Weir once put it, it looked like no one had ever taught her to fall properly.

Mila shook her head slowly, never taking her eyes off the TV. "Just watch. One fall and she falls apart."

Except she never fell. She had some landings where she had to fight to keep the edge but she never flubbed her jumps completely. And by the end of it, she had scored enough to put her in third place. Which kept Mila in second—

—and knocked Yūri right off the podium.

Yūri looked down at her Trimmien plush and sighed sadly. Next to her, Mila hugged her before whispering, "Sorry."

"Congratulations," Yūri said to her, returning the hug as much as she could before she got up to leave.

* * *

 **World Figure Skating Championships**

 **Ladies' Final Results**

1 XXXX XXXX

2 Mila Babicheva **RUS**

3 XXXX Pogorilaya **RUS**

4 Yuri Katsuki **JPN**

5 Sara Crispino **ITA**

...

* * *

Yūri had almost forgotten about the small medal ceremony, where they gave out medals to the top three scores in both the short program and the free skate. Even though she had bombed the short program, she was the winner of the free skate. And no one seemed to blink at the fact that she hadn't placed on the podium overall. Not even when she had a tiny gold medal the size of a 500 yen coin hung around her neck.

"It's not a total loss," Celestino said as they walked away together from the small medal press conference. "It's your first year at Worlds, fourth place isn't bad!"

"…but that's just it, isn't it?"

Celestino stopped to look at her. "Yūri?"

"I'm sorry, Celestino. I know I should be happy. I landed a quad…I set a world record and I came all the way back from the bottom but…" Her vision turned watery and Yūri found herself blinking to try and keep the tears back. "A quad toe…a world record…I did all that…and I couldn't even make the podium."

"Don't do this to yourself, Yūri." But Yūri kept her mouth shut, unable to hold her tears back as they overflowed and fell to the ground.

Yūri had wanted to get on the podium so badly. That was why it hurt so badly to get her scores the other day and see herself dead last. And then just like an idiot, she had let herself dream too high after her free skate.

A triple Axel, a quad toe, a world record…she had done all that and all she had to show for it was a puny medal the size of a coin worth less than a spot on the podium?

She was pathetic.

* * *

Je te dirai sans rire un jour: **Chris told Yūri that he would tell her without laughing someday.**

 **Yūri's music for her free skate is the acoustic version of** Fox Rain **by** Lee Sun Hee **.** Fox Rain **is the ending theme for the episodes of the Korean drama** My Girlfriend is a Nine-Tailed Fox.

 **Also, the reason Yūri calls Furfrou Trimmien is because Trimmien is the Japanese name for that Pokémon.**


	13. A Spell of Her Own

**World Figure Skating Championships**

 **Ladies' Final Results**

1 XXXX XXXX

2 Mila Babicheva **RUS**

3 XXXX Pogorilaya **RUS**

4 Yuri Katsuki **JPN**

5 Sara Crispino **ITA**

...

(Description: Yūri's name and placement are circled in red)

 **—Can y'all tell me what the hell just happened?**

 **—Hello 911? I'd like to report a robbery**

 **—Someone explain to me why Pogofall is on the podium when her program was clearly lackluster compared to Katsuki's?**

 **—Who is responsible for this crime? I want names!**

 **—If anyone remembered the short program, they'd remember that Yuri was dead last. Anyone after her would have been able to beat her with a lower FS score.**

 **—But she landed a quad toe! She broke Kim Yuna's record! She deserved to be on the podium!**

* * *

It took numerous tissues for Yūri to dry her tears and blow her nose, which was still stuffy even after Yūri had gone through the whole box. She tried not to breathe through her nose too much, knowing that the resulting sound if she did would tell everyone that she had been crying.

Celestino's sunglasses, which were too big on her, did nothing to hide the evidence. But her own eyes were red and watery and sad even after her tears had dried that the media would be on her if they caught sight of her with her usual glasses. She didn't want to let the world know just how much her placement affected her.

That was how she ended up following after Celestino as they prepared to leave the arena, adjusting the sunglasses on her face whenever they slid down her nose. Whereas Celestino made himself known through his footsteps, Yūri tried not to attract attention by quietly shuffling in his wake. At one point, Celestino looked back at her before turning forward again. "Keep your head up, Yūri. You may not have made the podium, but you're a world record holder and the first woman to land a quad toe loop. That's nothing to look ashamed about."

Did he think that Yūri was ashamed of her accomplishments? That wasn't it all. Yūri had impressed even herself with a quad and a free skate world record. She was ashamed of the fact that she had just told everyone that it didn't take a quad and world record to win the gold. That anyone could win without them.

That she didn't make the podium even though she had them.

What a way to let Japan down.

The lobby was bustling with competitors and spectators with a few reporters sprinkled in to try and catch some skaters off their guard. Yūri was ready to walk past them without a word when somebody called out, "Celestino."

Both Yūri and Celestino turned around to see Yakov Feltsman approach them. "Yakov," Celestino greeted. "Congratulations on your silver medalist."

Yūri expected Yakov to swell up in pride at that. After all, Mila had been the first one to score above her. Instead he shook his head, like he expected Mila to accomplish that feat. "The real praise goes to your quad jumper. Where is she, by the way?"

At 156cm—"A puny five foot one and not even a half" as Venus once put it—Yūri was easily eclipsed by Celestino's large frame. But her coach betrayed her by moving aside to reveal her to Yakov. Under the aged Russian coach's stern gaze, Yūri felt even smaller.

"That was an inspirational free skate, Miss Katsuki," Yakov said, "and its score was well deserved. Your step sequence and those spiral entries into your final jumps were extraordinary to witness."

Yūri had been looking in Yakov's direction to make it seem like she was looking at him, never bringing herself to look him in the eye. But his unexpected compliments had her tentatively looking at his eyes as much as she could with her vision dimmed by Celestino's sunglasses . It was hard to tell exactly with an expression that told of decades of skaters who did something to displease him, but there was something in Yakov's eyes that resembled…pride?

Yūri swallowed. "Thank you, Mr. Feltsman." She was sure that she sounded terrible. Yūri wouldn't be surprised if she had cried herself sick again. Whether Yakov took notice or not, she couldn't tell. She was thankful for the fact that Yakov didn't say a word.

"Yūri!"

"Yūri-san!"

She heard her name being called in two different directions. Yakov looked behind himself while Yūri turned towards the nearest source. Kenjiro ran towards her, the ends of his headband flying until he came to a stop before her. "You were amazing, Yūri-san!" Kenjiro exclaimed, looking close to tears and nearly crushing the gift box in his arms. "That was the best Fox Rain ever!"

"Th-thank you, Kenjiro." Yūri looked at the gift box worriedly. Whoever he meant to give it to, Yūri sincerely hoped there was nothing fragile inside. "Um, Kenjiro? Your gift box—"

"It's for you!" Kenjiro bowed as he held out the box for her. "I wanted to give it to you personally!"

Taken back by the fact that Kenjiro still wanted to give her a present even after her overall performance, Yūri took the box and opened it out of curiosity. Even Yūri couldn't stay sad for long when she saw what was inside. "Trimmien?" she asked, looking up.

Kenjiro nodded rapidly. "It's a tissue box cover! So you can take Trimmien everywhere you go!"

"Thank—" It was then that Yūri noticed the white patch taped to Kenjiro's left cheek and a bandage around one of his fingers. "Kenjiro?"

"Yes?"

"Were you injured?"

"Oh, this?" Kenjiro grinned widely as he touched his patch. "I got into a fight with one of my rinkmates—"

 _"What?!"_

She hadn't meant to be so loud. She really didn't mean to yell it out, either. But as soon as Yūri's mind processed the word "fight", Yūri shoved her gift into Celestino's hands and threw off his sunglasses as well. If they landed on the ground, she didn't care. Yūri was too busy examining Kenjiro's face for any other injuries to worry about a pair of sunglasses.

"Y-Yūri-san, I'm fine," Kenjiro stammered, slowly raising his hands to touch Yūri's, which held his flushed face. "It wasn't anything serious. We were just having a judo contest."

That did very little to ease her worries. "You shouldn't get into fights so easily. You could get suspended."

"We weren't injured badly, Yūri-san." The patch on his face and the wrapping around his finger told Yūri otherwise. It was enough to make Yūri stand on her toes to press her lips to Kenjiro's headband, much like how her mother used to kiss her bandages after she accidentally hurt herself.

"...Please don't fight anymore." Kenjiro was still young. He had the chance to go so far in skating. She didn't know if she could stand to see his career beyond repair because of one suspension.

Venus was already enough.

Kenjiro nodded slowly, his expression caught somewhere between guilt and disbelief. "I won't," he promised in a hushed voice.

Yūri reached to take Kenjiro's gift from Celestino, frowning when she touched cold hands. Celestino's hands were never cold. They were warm and calloused but these hands were smooth. Why did it feel like Celestino had gotten younger? She looked up at Celestino, only to jolt with the terrifying realization that she hadn't given Kenjiro's present to her coach like she believed. "V-Viktor!"

Yūri had no idea when Viktor had arrived, nor did she want to know how long he had stood behind her. Yakov Feltsman's perpetually stern gaze made her feel small but the amused smile from Viktor Nikiforov made her feel insignificant.

And she practically shoved Kenjiro's present into his hands, too!

"Hello, Yūri," Viktor said pleasantly, as though he hadn't been forced to hold Yūri's gift.

And that just made her feel even worse because Viktor took it like a gentleman when he had every right to be annoyed with her. "I didn't mean to make you hold my things! I thought you were Celestino—!" It finally sunk in that Viktor Nikiforov—five-time World Champion—was standing in front of her, smiling at her...and he knew her name. "Viktor? Why are you here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Yūri had to fight back the urge to run away when Viktor leaned down to eye level with her. "I want to get a photo with you!"

"What?" By now, Yūri was convinced she was dreaming. There was no way Viktor was asking her for a photo with her, right? "Oh, no, no, no—I don't think you want a photo with me—" Yūri knew that she still looked terrible. She didn't need a photo of her with teary red eyes next to Viktor—who was _unfairly_ impeccable in every single photo he took—plastered all over the Internet.

Something that resembled a grimace crossed Viktor's face, like he just realized what a horrible idea that was as well. He let go of Kenjiro's gift and straightened up as Mila came into view from behind Viktor. "Viktor, Yūri just landed a quad toe and set a world record," she informed with a cheerful smile. "She needs to get her rest!"

Thankful for Mila's intervention, Yūri took the gift box and her carry-on case and walked away unnoticed.

It wasn't until she was tucked away in the backseat of the taxi with Celestino—separate from the bus that competitors usually rode—that Yūri sat up in realization.

"Ciao Ciao…did I really just kiss someone in public?"

* * *

 **Katsuki Upgrades Women's Figure Skating**

Yuri Katsuki had finished the short program two days ago at the bottom of the roster, just barely missing the chopping block that would have eliminated her from her first World Championships.

In a surprise twist, Katsuki delivered a stunning free skate that not only featured the first fully rotated quadruple toe loop in women's figure skating, but earned a score higher than Yuna Kim's world record free skate at the 2010 Vancouver Olympics. Katsuki was able to come back from her original placement and finish fourth overall.

 **—Fourth? She had a quad toe and a world record and she finished fourth?**

 **—What a loser.**

 **—Let's see you deliver a 4-minute world class free skate and set a world record, a**hole!**

 **—Between the fourth best female skater in the world and a fata*** who can't make the effort to get off his chair, who's the real loser here?**

 **—She's not the fourth best. She doesn't even have a ranking**

 **—Wait, why?**

 **—World standings are calculated from the results of the current and preceding two seasons. Before last season, Yuri was on break for two years. She'll have to compete next year to finally get a world standing.**

 **—Why did she take a break?**

* * *

Yūri's phone rang when she entered the elevator. "Hello?"

"I've got my knife shoes ready, Yūri! Just tell me who I need to kill!" Yūri had to keep herself from laughing at Phichit on the other end.

"It's no one's fault, Phichit…it's just me."

"But you were robbed!" Phichit cried. Yūri could hear his hamsters squeaking over something in the background. "You should have been on the podium! Everyone knows how bad Pogorilaya is!"

"I had the lowest score going into the free skate," Yūri reminded as the elevator stopped on her floor. She got out and dragged her feet to her door. "I never would have made the podium. I'm surprised I even got so close."

"First place flutzed and pre-rotated all over the place and the judges didn't even call her out on it!"

"Phichit, that's enough."

"You and Celestino should file a complaint—"

 _"Enough."_ Yūri didn't mean to snap at Phichit, but she was tired. So tired. She didn't want people making excuses for her. She just wanted to be alone. "If I complain now, I'll just look like a sore loser. You think I want a medal by throwing a tantrum?"

"It's not throwing a tantrum, it's rightfully complaining—"

"Phichit…please," Yūri interrupted in exasperation.

Phichit must have finally picked up on her mood through her voice because he didn't rant any further. "You were fantastic tonight, you know that, Yūri?"

"Was I?"

"Of course you were!" Phichit insisted as Yūri unlocked her room door and retreated inside. "You landed a quad toe loop! The first quad since Miki Ando and you're older than she was when she did it!"

True, Miki Ando was still a teenager when she landed a quad salchow but unlike Yūri, she had gotten on the podium with her combined scores. Before Yūri could say as much, her phone vibrated. "Someone else is trying to call me," she said to Phichit.

"Who is it?" Yūri pulled her phone away from her ear to read the caller ID.

"He Long."

"I'll hang up," Phichit said. "But if the Shanghai Jerk says something to make you cry, text me and I'll ruin him faster than he can outskate Viktor Ahn."

"Don't do that."

"No promises, Yūri. Bye!"

As soon as Phichit hung up, Yūri picked up He Long's call. "Long?"

"Yūri!" He sounded relieved and almost out of breath. "Are you all right? I know I didn't call yesterday. I'm sorry for that."

Yūri blinked as if a bell had gone off in her head. Now that she thought about it, He Long hadn't called her after her disastrous short program. Venus and Yūri's mother had called just after to check up on her…and Yūri had hung up on them without so much as a warning. She definitely would have ignored He Long's call if he had tried yesterday. "It's all right…I didn't really want to talk to anyone after my short program."

"I know—I-I mean, I wanted to call afterwards but I didn't know what to say without making you feel worse," He Long explained. "But you were amazing during the free skate, _empress_." Yūri felt something in her shrivel up when she heard his new nickname for her. "A quad and a world record? You really stole the show from the others on the podium—"

"He Long," Yūri began slowly, clenching her teeth to hold herself together. "Could you please not call me _empress_?"

"Yūri? What's wrong?"

"I'm hardly an empress…and as it is, I don't even deserve to be yours."

"Yūri—" Just like how she ended her calls after the short program, Yūri abruptly hung up on He Long.

There was nobody. There was nobody to see her slide against the door. Nobody to see her cry with a tiny gold medal around her neck offering her very little comfort.

Nobody at all.

* * *

 **Chris-GC**

Congratulations Yuri!  
I know you'll be on the  
podium next year!

 **mila-babicheva**

You were amazing tonight,  
Yuri! yuri-plisetsky Anything  
you want to say, yurochka?

 **sara-crispino**

Congratulations, Yuri! Please  
don't be sad. Fourth isn't bad  
for your first Worlds.

 **Jjleroy!15**

JJ Style here to say congrats  
to second ladies' quad jumper,  
world record holder, and my fellow 4CC  
champion: Yuri Katsuki!

* * *

Yūri woke up to her phone ringing. She didn't want to answer it but, purely out of a desire to end the noise, she picked it up. "Hello?"

"Yūri!" Celestino's voice boomed on the other end. "Are you awake?"

"I am now." Yūri had to refrain from adding that Celestino was the reason she was up in the first place.

"Good, good," he said. "You have enough time to wash up and get to the arena."

"The arena? Why?"

"Why?" Celestino repeated incredulously. "Yūri, you were invited to the gala!"

"What?" This had Yūri sitting up in surprise. "They aren't serious, are they?"

"Yūri, you set the free skate world record and landed a quad toe. Just go to the gala. You earned the right to attend it."

Did she? Part of Yūri felt like this was the ISU's cruel idea of a joke: showing off a could-have-been gold medalist. But if she didn't go, she might be fined for turning down the invitation. In the end, she only had one option. "I'll start getting ready."

"And when you're done, call me and I'll meet you in the lobby. Sound good?" Celestino asked.

It wasn't like she had much of a choice to begin with, but Yūri threw herself out of bed to jump into the shower. Once she was done getting ready, she was about to walk out the door when she saw Kenjiro's gift from yesterday. Unlike the plush she received after her free skate—that Trimmien sat on her bed—the Trimmien tissue box cover was based on the creature's natural, untrimmed form. Whoever came up with the Poodle Pokémon was a genius.

As childish as it looked, at least the fictional poodle would be a constant comfort at the stadium.

* * *

That was what she initially believed. But before Yūri even took off her blade guards, she felt out of place. Everybody else skating in the gala was already on the ice, practically ready to start the opening and closing rehearsal. There was no way they would ever wait on her.

Even without her glasses, Yūri could see one of the skaters look in her general direction. She ducked out of sight, sitting against the rink boards as she tried to calm her pounding heart. It felt like they were making fun of her behind her back, laughing at how she couldn't even make the podium—

"Unless you're going to do the opening on the fly with us, you're not going to get much done hiding here."

Yūri looked up to see the one of the Canadian skaters in the men's bracket standing next to her. She could see bits of melting ice on his skates, indicating that he only just got off of it. "You're Jean-Jacques, right?"

"Call me JJ," he said, perching himself on top of the rink boards. "No need to ask who you are, Yūri. Everyone's just buzzing about the little lady who jumped twenty places and a quad toe to finish at the top."

"Everyone?" Yūri repeated.

JJ inclined his head towards the ice behind him. "They're all waiting for you—well, me _and_ you," he added, "to start rehearsal. So why are you hiding here?"

Yūri braved a glimpse over the rink boards, sighing in relief to see the other skaters were far away from her hiding spot. It was a wonder how they didn't notice JJ looking like he was sitting by himself. "I feel like a fraud," she mumbled.

"Come again?" JJ asked, leaning down slightly closer.

"I feel like a fraud," Yūri said again, her voice just above a whisper.

"You?" JJ looked appalled at this. "You broke Kim Yuna's free skate record, landed a complete quad toe, and _you_ think you're a fraud? How?"

"That's exactly why. I had a quad toe and a world record, both of which should have guaranteed a victory but I finished fourth. I'm not supposed to be here."

"I finished in fourth, too! You think I'm not supposed to be here?"

Realizing how self-centered she must have sounded, Yūri turned and sat up so she could look at JJ properly. "I didn't mean it like that! Of course you do! You're eighteen and you're already every bit as good as Chris and Viktor and—and—!" Yūri was ashamed to admit that she didn't pay attention to the men's bracket unless Viktor was involved. She could list several of the best female figure skaters but Viktor and Chris were the few names in the men's circuit that she could name off the top of her head. Those two had ruled the podium for a long time.

"…Thanks," JJ said, an odd pink tint to his face. "So if I can skate in the gala even though I finished fourth but I'm every bit as good as the top two men's skaters, why can't the fourth place lady who set a world record and made history with a quad toe skate in the gala?"

He had a point. Even without a spot on the podium, Yūri was the winner of the free skate and the second quad jumper in ladies' figure skating. Both of those earned her the right to skate in the gala with the best of them.

If Yūri were to be honest…her feelings of inadequacy weren't because of her overall placement. "It's because…well…everyone here…has been skating every year since their senior debut. They were already grown up and ready to be judged seriously. Not like me. I wasn't ready at all." It had hurt so much back then to announce her break and practically admit to the whole world that she wasn't ready for the senior division at all.

Back then it had felt like she was already announcing her retirement.

"Hey, Yūri? Yūri? Come on, Sad Asian Girl, don't go crying on us again," she could hear JJ say.

"I'm not—" Yūri's head shot up in confusion. "Sad Asian Girl? Where'd that come from?"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it!" JJ held up his hands in surrender. "It's just that you looked so miserable whenever I saw you in Detroit that I sort of nicknamed you that!"

"In Detroit?" The Japanese skater scrunched up her face, trying to recall any memory of seeing the Canadian at the Detroit Skating Club. But no matter how hard she tried, nothing came to mind. "When were you ever in Detroit?"

"It was three—maybe four years ago, during the summer," he said, holding down three fingers and hesitating on a fourth. "My parents let me go to the States so I could train with Celestino…It didn't work out so well."

"Really?" Yūri asked in amazement. "But…I don't remember seeing you at the club."

"No, you wouldn't have," JJ agreed. "Let's see…It was definitely half a year after Venus Jones and Tae Yi-Rang were suspended and you announced your break. I had practice with Celestino until late afternoon, and whenever I _did_ see you, you looked so miserable that I knew not to bother you." He turned to look down to her, cocking his head in concern. "What _was_ up with you then? Were you going through a break up?"

No, that wasn't it at all. The time frame JJ was describing was long before she had ever met Yuan He Long and even before that, she'd never been on a date, let alone had a boyfriend. "…I'm sorry," Yūri said in a weak voice. "I just really don't like talking about what was going on back then."

JJ nodded slowly in what Yūri hoped was understanding. "Okay." The two just sat there in silence, with JJ sitting on top on the barrier and Yūri hiding from the ice with it. JJ scratched his head before his head whirled towards her. "Okay, so you took a break after your senior debut, probably longer than normal, but you know what's amazing about that?" JJ paused. Whether he did so for dramatic effect or if he was expecting Yūri to answer, she had no idea. "You came back and you were on fire. You came blazing back into the international stage when everyone thought you were done for!" he exclaimed. "…I thought you were done for," he admitted.

"You're a very nice person, JJ," Yūri said. He really was, and Yūri was thankful for him trying to cheer her up.

"Thank you." JJ puffed up in pride at that. "I do my best. But just so you know, I already have a girlfriend," he warned abruptly.

"And I have a boyfriend."

"Yeah, I heard. He's a short track speed skater, right?" Yūri nodded in confirmation. "He better take good care of you or he's gonna be getting a _nice_ long chat from me..." JJ held his hands together as if he were about to crack his knuckles, only to cross his hands and stick out his thumb and index fingers to form his signature hand sign. "JJ Style!"

Yūri didn't know if she wanted to scream or laugh. "Why does everyone keep threatening him?!"

JJ threw his head back and guffawed. "The speed skater should have known what he was getting into when he stole you away from us!"

Behind them, Yūri could hear the choreographer calling for the gala skaters to gather on the ice to start rehearsing for the opening. "Well, Yūri?" JJ extended a hand down to her. "Ready to show the world what a real champion should look like?"

"…No," Yūri admitted. "But I will remind them that I'm still here."

"That's the spirit!" Once Yūri grabbed onto JJ's hand, he pulled her up and Yūri took off her skate guards. "Let me get a selfie before we go!"

Once that was done, JJ led the way over to the gap in the barrier. He stepped aside, bowing slightly as he moved aside. "Ladies first."

* * *

 **Jjleroy!15**

[Photo: JJ and Yuri smiling at the camera]

With the queen, Yuri Katsuki.  
(Be nice to her, she's shy)  
 _#worlds #figureskating #missedthepodium_  
 _#madeafriend #yurikatsuki #itsjjstyle!_


	14. Misplaced Feelings

1 XXXX XXXX

2 Mila Babicheva **RUS**

3 XXXX Pogorilaya **RUS**

4 Yuri Katsuki **JPN**

5 Sara Crispino **ITA**

"Oh," Chris murmured softly. "Oh."

Viktor didn't know what to say about the final results. Seeing that Yūri had finished in the top five overall—with a disastrous short program and a phenomenal free skate—he, too, couldn't find the right words to say.

Yūri Katsuki had surprised all of them—she had surprised Viktor the most—with a free skate that portrayed her as the epitome of beauty and grace. Unlike her short program, every element had been executed without a hitch. But her second-to-last jump—meant to be a triple toe loop directly after her choreographic sequence—had been entered from an unexpected arabesque spiral before she swiveled around in time for a quadruple toe loop. That single quad and its unusual entry had been enough to grant her a free skate score beyond the record held by Yuna Kim and catapult her to the top.

While Yūri had scared many of the skaters after her, the last two groups had enough time to compose themselves. When Mila managed to place above Yūri, Viktor practically heard Yakov gloating in the kiss and cry even from where he sat. With the proof that a world record holder could be displaced, the remaining skaters had gathered their wits until two of them placed high enough to take Yūri off the podium.

As disappointed as he was, Viktor knew it wasn't a total loss. Yūri had landed the first quad toe in ladies' figure skating and set a world record. She climbed all the way from the bottom to finish a world-class skater. Even if she wasn't the world champion like Viktor had originally hoped, Yūri hadn't failed completely.

"That must be a hard blow to take for her," Chris said, shaking his head as they left the medal ceremony.

"Mila?" Viktor looked at him, confused. "She might be frustrated coming second to a girl who can't execute a Lutz, but I don't think she'll be angry about it."

Chris gave him a look that told Viktor that he had gotten it all wrong. "I meant _Yūri_."

"Yūri was amazing," Viktor said automatically. "But she has nothing to be ashamed of. A quad and a world record at her first Worlds is incredible!"

Chris was the first to round the corner, but he immediately spun back on his heel and clamped a hand down on Viktor's shoulder. "Detour," he hissed in a low voice.

"But why—?" Chris left no room for questions as he tried to lead Viktor away while the Russian fought against him to look around the corner, curious to know what Chris didn't want him to see. He barely managed to get a glimpse of a figure in a Japanese team jacket with her back to him before he heard the sound of a nose being blown.

Viktor swallowed thickly as Chris succeeded in leading him away. It wasn't unusual to see skaters upset with their final standings at competitions. While most could put their emotions away until they were away from prying eyes, there were some who couldn't help but let it out. But Viktor couldn't understand why a female skater from Japan would be upset. All three women had placed in the top ten, and the two higher ranking skaters had placed well enough to secure three spots for next year's Worlds. Of course, it probably had to do with the fact that not one of them made the podium. The woman crying certainly couldn't have been Yūri, but Viktor also couldn't imagine Mao Asada—the oldest and most experienced of the three Japanese ladies—crying in public.

All around them were spectators who recognized the two easily and asked for photos, delaying their departure. And the lobby wasn't any better, packed with reporters and even more spectators looking for even a minute of a skater's time. Viktor had fallen behind Chris several times when fans wanted a selfie, allowing the Swiss to exit the arena quickly and get on the competitors' bus.

Viktor looked away as soon as the current selfie was taken. Just several meters away, Yakov stood with Celestino, but they didn't seem to be talking to each other. Yakov didn't even look at Celestino, who in turn looked at someone that Yakov blocked from his view. If Celestino was there, the person Yakov was facing had to be— "Yūri!" he called, walking over.

Yakov turned to look at him, revealing a brief glimpse of the young lady who surprised the whole world. But Yūri had turned away from him, directing her attention instead to a teen with dirty blond hair with a streak of red running up to her. The boy was definitely her fan as he talked animatedly in Japanese, squeezing a box that could only be meant for his idol.

"Ciao, ciao, Viktor!" Celestino greeted, sounding surprised. "I thought you would be out sightseeing to celebrate."

"I couldn't not cheer on my rinkmate." Viktor refrained from mentioning that he hadn't completely supported Mila, not when his attention during the ladies' free skate had been on the woman just an arm's reach away from him.

Going by Chris' words, Yūri rarely interacted with anyone. She was elusive to both fellow skaters and fans alike. But at the moment, as she accepted and opened the gift her fan presented, Yūri gave her undivided attention to the one who managed to catch her before she could disappear. Not even a pair of sunglasses over her eyes could hide the joy on her face as she examined her gift.

"Where's Mila?" Yakov asked, drawing his attention away from Yūri.

"I think she's still in the locker room," Viktor said, though he didn't doubt that some fans were holding her up.

" _What?!_ " Yakov jolted and Celestino looked at his student, both alarmed and ready to scold her for raising her voice in public. Viktor turned around in time to have Yūri shove her gift into his arms—not that he minded at all. But Viktor had to dive down to catch the sunglasses she threw off. The Russian skater wanted to marvel (in horror) at how easily Yūri would have broken a pair of brand name sunglasses.

None of that seemed to matter to her as she held the boy's face, which had a patch taped to the left cheek. He must have been injured, given by how panicked Yūri had sounded. In any other setting, she could have been a mother worried for her child. But instead of embarrassment, her fan's face was flushed pink with awe at the attention he was receiving from Yūri. Pink turned to red and Viktor watched dumbstruck as the Japanese angel stood on her toes to kiss the boy's forehead.

"She's certainly bolder than before," Celestino said behind him with a chuckle.

Viktor glanced at the Italian man, trying to ignore the burning feeling in his chest. "You should tell her to be careful. Her other fans will get—" The Russian's words were cut off when he felt someone reach for the box in his hands. He looked at the culprit, smiling when he came face-to-face with Yūri.

"V-Viktor!" She stammered, a blush forming on her cheeks.

That only caused his smile to grow. "Hello, Yūri," he greeted brightly.

Now that he thought about it, this was the first time she actually spoke to him. Back in Sochi, she wouldn't even look at him when he spoke but now she was here, just barely meeting his eyes with a timid pair of brown. "I didn't mean to make you hold my things! I thought you were Celestino!" Yūri squeaked, bowing her head before she looked up at him again. "Viktor?" she asked. "Why are you here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Did she really not know what she did to him? He leaned down to look into her expressive brown eyes: bright and alluring in Sochi, startled and innocent now. Chris did say that she was shy, but did she have to look like a timid little rabbit? "I want to get a photo with you!"

"What?" Yūri cried, leaning back just a little that Viktor could tell she was trying to get away. "Oh, no, no, no—I don't think you want a photo with me!"

Was she…was she _snubbing_ him? Yūri had no problem kissing her fan, but she wouldn't stop for a photo with him? Viktor didn't know whether to be sad or insulted. Yet as he looked at her face, she looked scared at the prospect of a photo with him—almost horrified. Was she scared of her own boyfriend's reaction?

Before he could take advantage of the possibility, Viktor winced as nails dug into his lower back. The Russian legend bit back a yelp as he pulled away to try and pry off the fingers discreetly. Mila—"Sneaky Baba" as Yura once called her and Viktor now found the nickname incredibly accurate—popped into view with a wide smile on her face and a hand hidden under Viktor's jacket. "Viktor, Yūri just landed a quad toe and set a world record," she reminded a little too cheerfully. "She needs to get her _rest_!" she added with a hidden edge to her voice, digging her nails in further to drive her point across.

Getting Mila's nails off of his back was difficult, considering that her nails were conveniently long. By the time Viktor pried them off and turned to look at Yūri, she was nowhere in sight now. Mila's interference had allowed her to vanish. Celestino finished whatever he and Yakov were discussing and left the arena, presumably to locate his runaway skater. "Yakov~I really wanted a photo with Yūri but Mila ruined it!"

"Yūri wasn't in the mood for a picture, Vitya," Mila chided.

"Mila had the right idea to stop you," Yakov said. He held out his hand, silently asking for the sunglasses that Viktor didn't know he still had. "Katsuki is easily moved to tears, but no one can fault her for that tonight." The elder Russian inhaled deeply before sighing. "She may not have made the podium, but she'll be invited to the gala. Not even the ISU can deny her that."

Viktor frowned, confused by his coach's words. "Easily moved—? What do you mean?"

Mila sighed in exasperation while Yakov inhaled deeply and turned to leave the stadium. "Viktor, you _idiot_ ," she hissed in a low voice.

* * *

 **yuzuavenue**

[ **Video** : A young man is seen from the side leaning over the rink boards with a present in his hands. Yūri skates over and takes the gift and the youth jumps and screams excitedly.] I'd gif this but y'all need to hear Yuzu squealing after Yuri accepts his gift.

 _3,061 notes_

* * *

 **sukeota3sisters**

[ **Photo 1** : Yūri accepting the Trimmien plush from her fan right after her free skate.]

When you thought Yuzuru was Yuri's favorite cinnamon roll, but then she goes and does this.

[ **Photo 2** : Yūri standing on her toes to kiss Kenjiro]

 _1,587 likes_

{Someday, Yuzu-kun}

{Forget Yuzu, look who's behind Yuri. I'm wheezing}

* * *

 **minami-kenji** YURI-SAMA KISSED MY HEADBAND! _#worlds #yurikatsuki_

 **mila-babicheva** _yuri-plisetsky_ Junior worlds silver medalist just got something better than your gold

 **yuri-plisetsky** _mila-babicheva_ Who the hell wants a stupid kiss from a girl?

 **v-nikiforov** _yuri-plisetsky_ You're not fooling anyone, Yurochka~

 **yuri-plisetsky** _v-nikiforov_ At least I wasn't caught glaring at a kid, stupid geezer

* * *

 **figureskating-confessions**

[ **Photo** : Yūri after she kissed Kenjiro's forehead while Viktor is in the background] Anyone wanna talk about Victor Nikiforov glaring at Kenjiro when Yuri kissed him? _#worlds #yuri katsuki #kenjiro minami #victor nikiforov_

{ **When you're secretly in love with Yuri Katsuki. But same, Victor, same** _#jealousmuch? #whatdoicallthis? #victuri?_ }

{ **The fabled Katsu-Kiss: a mystical blessing given by the Japanese Angel and guarded closely by the Shanghai Dragon. Legend has it that whoever receives it is granted fortune and longevity. And Viktor missed out!** _#katsukiss #lmao #rofl #thatfacethough #sorrynotsorry_ }

{ **Victor: I don't get jealous.** [Yuri kisses Kenjiro] **You'd better wash your face if you know what's good for you, kid.** _#katsukiss #victuri_ }

{ **This is bs. Everyone knows that Yuri is in love with He Long and Viktor's not interested in romance at the moment.** _#yutsuki_ }

{ **You say that, but Viktor clearly wanted that kiss** _#vikturi_ }

* * *

 **yuri-on-ice**

[ **Video** ] Am I the only one who finds it weird that Yuri sounded more worried about Kenjiro getting into a fight than his actual injuries? _#yuri katsuki #kenjiro minami #katsukiss_

 **{No, she really was worried about his injuries}**

 **{Listen to the video! She's telling Kenjiro not to fight or he'll be suspended!}**

 **{[Hermione Granger . gif] I watched the video and was reminded of this little bit.}**

 **{Yuri knows what happens when the ISU gets wind of skaters getting violent with each other. Her rinkmate Venus Jones was suspended that way}**

 **{Really? Who was she fighting?}**

 **{…are you serious? You don't know about the scandal? What the hell are you doing here?}**

 **{What does Venus Jones have to do with the scoring scandal in Sochi?}**

 **{Nobody tell those idiots anything}**

* * *

Viktor looked up after his fifth lap around the ice when he saw someone stepping on, deflating when he found it was only the gold medalist of the women's event.

"You aren't very subtle with your disappointment, Viktor," Chris snickered as he skated up to him. "Anyone can tell who you're looking for."

"I can't help it!" Viktor turned to look at the Swiss skater. "I asked for a photo with her last night and she blew me off, Chris!"

"I did say she is very shy," the Swiss reminded.

"But she kissed her fan a minute before that!"

"Which reminds me." Chris pulled out his phone and unlocked it, swiping the screen several times before he turned it over to Viktor. He didn't know why his friend was showing him a picture of Yūri after she had kissed her fan, but Chris zoomed in on the shot of Viktor. In the photo, he was standing behind the Japanese woman, who was oblivious to the intense stare the Russian gave her fan.

Chris glanced at him briefly before he broke into laughter, earning looks from the other skaters and an unimpressed face from Viktor. "You're not helping at all, Chris."

"I can't help it!" Chris howled, coming to a stop by the rinkboards so he could lean over it. "You were actually jealous of a kid!" When the Swiss finally stopped laughing, he held up his phone to zoom out of the picture. "But that is unusually bold of her."

"That's just about what Celestino said last night," Viktor confirmed. Out of the corner of his eye, a tiny figure in black stood on the other side of the rink boards. Viktor turned to see who had arrived, only for the figure to quickly duck out of sight.

Meanwhile, Chris nodded slowly as he locked his phone. "Celestino would know about that," he admitted with narrowed eyes. "During her senior debut with him, Yūri was as shy as a clam."

"Isn't she always like that?" Viktor asked.

"No," Chris answered, shaking his head. "Before she moved to Detroit, she was…" The Swiss furrowed his brows, no doubt trying to find the right words to voice his thoughts. "She was still shy," he confessed, "but not so much that even her own shadow scared her!"

"She moved to a different country to further her training. Perhaps she was homesick?" While Viktor could never understand how other skaters made the choice to relocate to a rink far from their home country, he imagined it must have been hard on the other Yuri. It wasn't too hard to imagine her scared of her new surroundings.

Chris only hummed thoughtfully, as though he had no idea of the answer himself. Except Chris already seemed to know the reason if his next words were anything to go by. "It could be that, but I'm willing to bet that Celestino had something to do with it. He's rather insensitive when it comes to female students."

"I'm surprised that you know so much about Yūri. I thought you didn't pay attention to women."

The Swiss' head spun towards him, eyes wide with astonishment. "Yūri was practically all over the news after she made her comeback last year, Viktor. Everyone was paying attention to her then." Chris cocked his head, eyeing Viktor like he didn't know what to make of his question. "Weren't you?"

"Last year?" Viktor pressed a finger to his lips as he thought back to the events of the previous season. "Last year, my rinkmate had become the youngest to win the Junior Grand Prix Final and Junior Worlds."

"Your rinkmate who has a crush on Yūri? His name is Yuri too, right?" When Viktor nodded to confirm, Chris stroked his chin. "That makes sense. Another rising star would have been more newsworthy in Russia than a returning skater who quit during her senior debut."

"She quit during her senior debut?" Viktor asked incredulously. That certainly caught his attention. "Why?"

Chris only offered a shrug and a puzzled expression. "No one knows, Viktor. Right before her Nationals, she just said she needed a break. Everyone thought she would return the next season, but she didn't. For two years, she was just… _gone_. But…" Chris narrowed his eyes again, this time in displeasure. "If you ask me, it probably had to do with Venus—"

A loud guffaw from the other side of the rink interrupted Chris, making him and Viktor direct their attention to a skater sitting on the rink boards. "—should have known what he was getting into when he stole you away from us!" He had to be talking to someone, except Viktor didn't see anyone else with him.

Viktor tried to shrug it off as the gala choreographer called for the skaters to gather for the opening rehearsal. But the loud skater reached for something out of sight, pulling Yūri into view before posing for a selfie with her.

Now Viktor couldn't help but feel well and truly cheated. Yūri had refused a photo with him last night, but there she was—happily stopping for a selfie with another skater. "I thought she was _shy_ , Chris," he hissed as the loud skater—a Canadian, going by his jacket—led Yūri to the ice and bowed to let her go first.

Chris didn't answer him immediately, not when he was gaping at the duo now joining the rest of the skaters. He did lean closer so that only Viktor could hear him. "You're not skating to Hellfire again, are you?"

Viktor really hadn't thought about Hellfire after the European Championships. He had planned on going back to his Romeo and Juliet program for the gala but seeing Yūri look so at ease talking with the Canadian skater during the skaters' break after the opening rehearsal, now he was starting to consider reviving Hellfire.

Was it too much to want her to look at him?

"Watch out, Viktor!"

"Yūri, heads up!"

Viktor turned his head too late as another skater collided into his back hard enough to knock Viktor off balance. Whoever it was tried to grab his arms to stop him from falling but ended up falling on top of him. The Russian skater sat up at the same time that—to his joy—Yūri hurriedly pushed herself off of Viktor. "I'm so sorry, Viktor! I didn't see you until JJ and Chris yelled and it was too late to stop!" she cried all at once, clearly panicked. "Are you okay?"

"My head hurts..." Viktor reached a hand up to rub the back of his head—which didn't hurt at all. In fact, their collision didn't leave any lasting pain. "Perhaps you could kiss it better?" he asked innocently.

It took everything Viktor had in him to not laugh when Yūri burned as red as her fan after she had kissed him last night. "Uh—I—Viktor, I think you might have a concussion—"

Without warning, a thumb hooked itself under his jacket's collar while nails dug into the back of his neck. Viktor yelped in pain as Mila helped— _forced_ —him to stand on the ice again. "Don't worry, Yūri, this happens every time he falls," Mila said as she helped Yūri up with more care than she had with Viktor. "Viktor only needs to skate it off." His rink mate patted Yūri on the back to send the Japanese woman away.

"Mila!" Viktor hissed, rubbing his neck after Yūri was a good distance away.

"What?" she defended, putting her hands on her hips. "Yurochka gave me a lot of rubles. I can't break my promise."

* * *

The first half of the gala ended with a performance from the fourth place finisher in Viktor's bracket who also happened to be the Canadian that Yūri had posed for a selfie with. And as luck would have it, Yūri would be the opening of the gala's second half.

"She's skating to her short program from her comeback year," Chris noted as Yūri skated out, greeted by thunderous applause from her home crowd. The welcome she received was much louder than what was given to her team mates who had performed earlier.

As Yūri folded one arm to cover her face and the other behind her head, Viktor couldn't help but notice how her starting pose mirrored the beginning of his own exhibition. While the position was the same, the music clearly wasn't. Yūri had chosen to skate to the sound of war drums and trumpets, gliding across the ice like she was preparing to go to battle. The woman he was seeing here was a far cry from the gentle beauty during her free skate.

One thing that caught his attention was her spiral entry into her opening jump combination. Spirals slowed a skater down gradually if the position was held long enough. But during her free skate, Yūri had landed her final jumps—a quad toe and a triple flip—from spirals that were held for at least three seconds. "Has she always jumped from a spiral, Chris?" he asked.

"Before her break, not often," Chris replied, never taking his eyes off of the screen. "It used to be doubles if she did. She started doing triples from a spiral when she came back."

While Yūri's spiral entries and her artistry were amazing, neither could get her the world title in the end. But Viktor was surprised by how unfazed the Japanese woman was afterwards. Yūri had kissed her fan and posed for a selfie with another skater while she turned him down for a photo. Now she was skating proudly with a fire in her eyes, as though she had been named the world champion instead of a woman robbed of her rightful crown.

How could she accept that so easily? Yūri had shown all the capabilities to make the podium and even become the world champion. But she didn't seem to care at all that she hadn't earned a medal. Viktor knew that he would have felt some kind of indignation if he had been in her position. He would have brushed it off, but his disappointment definitely would have shown in his skating afterwards.

So how was Yūri happy even without a spot on the podium?

Viktor didn't know what to make of the twinge in his chest when the monitor captured the joy on her face as she bowed to her native crowd's applause.

* * *

As the gala closed to roaring cheers, the skaters gathered for the traditional group selfie. Viktor was about to make his way to the front of the group and join Chris when he heard someone yell, "A little higher, Yūri!"

Viktor looked around until he found Yūri hanging around in the back of the group. The Japanese woman tried to add onto her height by standing on her toepicks, just barely clearing the shoulders of the skater in front of her. It was almost comical to watch, but her small stature meant that she wouldn't be seen in the photo.

Well, that wouldn't do.

Viktor didn't notice the ear-piercing screams from the audience when he lifted Yūri up by her legs. He didn't notice the roaring laughter from Chris when the Swiss looked back to find the source of the commotion. He certainly didn't notice the astonished glance from the loud Canadian.

What he did notice was that Yūri was very light—Viktor barely broke a sweat by lifting her and he would have sore arms if he carried Makkachin. She was also warm, and she rested a hand on his back to help stabilize her position. Yūri looked down at Viktor and he felt her jolt in his hold. "Viktor!" she squeaked, and did she have to look so adorable with that blush on her face?

Still, knowing that he was the one who painted her face pink made Viktor smile widely. "Hello again, Yūri." The Japanese woman averted her eyes, suddenly every bit the timid little rabbit he had met yesterday.

"Yo, Viktor!" While everyone else around them left as soon as the picture was taken, the loud Canadian skater skated up to them. "You wanna let Yūri down any time soon? She looks a bit uncomfortable."

Reluctantly, Viktor set the tiny Japanese woman back on the ice while cursing the Canadian in his head. Yūri glanced between him and the Canadian, her ponytail swishing back and forth before she bowed her head to Viktor. "Th-thank you for lifting me, Viktor."

"It was my pleasure, _lapochka_." Yūri immediately looked up and Viktor winked, making the woman in front of him squeak.

"Yūri, if you're interested, one of your team mates wanted to start a race over there," the loud Canadian butted in, pointing towards a handful of skaters still on the ice. Yūri quickly skated over to the group but the Canadian skater, instead of following her, slowly skated towards Viktor. "So, Viktor—you know she's got a boyfriend, right?"

Viktor's eyebrows rose in response to the Canadian's question. "I'm quite aware."

"If you know that, you should back off from her," the Canadian skater said brashly.

The Russian legend narrowed his eyes at the other skater. " _Excuse_ me?"

The loud Canadian jabbed a thumb towards Yūri, who was presented with a notepad and a pen by one of her teammates. "The way you've been getting friendly with Yūri all day, it's like you're jealous of something. Don't get me wrong, I don't think you're mean enough to break them up," the Canadian defended. "But whatever you're doing, quit it. Yūri's the one who'll get hurt the most out of this."

"JJ, come over!" The Canadian—JJ, apparently—turned and skated away from Viktor without another word.

Chris joined him seconds later, oblivious to the Russian's bubbling anger. "What did I miss?" he wondered.

Viktor pressed his lips firmly as he watched JJ join the skaters lined up side by side like sprinters. Yūri and another female skater stood opposite of each other, apparently marking a starting line. "Nothing."

No, that wasn't right. Viktor wasn't fine. He was _angry_. Who did that JJ think he was? Did a photo with Yūri make him think that he knew everything there was about her? About Viktor?

 _What gave him the right!_

But…no matter how angry he was at the cocky Canadian, he couldn't deny his words. Yes, he was trying to get close to Yūri. Yes, he was jealous of her boyfriend.

 _"'No matter what, Yūri will **always** return to me.'"_

That wasn't right, either. Viktor wasn't jealous of the pretentious speed skater. He was jealous that Yūri _chose_ to call the speed skater her love. But he didn't just want the love that made Yuan so arrogantly declare that Yūri would always return to him. He was _jealous_ of it.

Viktor was jealous that Yūri received unconditional love from her home nation without even a medal to warrant it. He was jealous that Yūri would give her love to a fan when she was known to avoid them in the first place. He was jealous that Yūri was brought to life on the same ice that had stolen his life away from him.

He was jealous of _Yūri_.


	15. An Unsettling Rejection

**I'm finally back! Originally I planned to write this chapter from Yūri's perspective, but when I ran into roadblocks, I found it was easier to write from the Russian Ice Tiger's point of view.**

 **Happy New Year to you all!**

* * *

 _What the hell?_

 **World Figure Skating Championships**

 **Ladies' Final Results**

1 XXXX XXXX

2 Mila Babicheva **RUS**

3 XXXX Pogorilaya **RUS**

4 Yuri Katsuki **JPN**

5 Sara Crispino **ITA**

No matter how many times he hit refresh, nothing changed. The results still showed the Japanese Yuri stuck in fourth place.

 _What the hell?_

To say that Yuri Plisetsky was shocked by the results of the ladies' competition was an understatement.

He wasn't shocked—he was fucking _furious._

It wasn't because Yūri Katsuki had bombed her short program. ( _Then_ he was shocked. Before he could decide then whether to be mad or not, she came back in the free skate with a quad toe and a world record.)

It wasn't because Mila had gotten second at Worlds. (No matter how annoying the hag was, Yuri really was proud of her.)

It certainly wasn't because for the first time in history, Russia led a sweep of the ladies' world podium.

Or maybe that was it, because Yuri knew that there was no way in hell that _Pogorilaya_ —Queen of Outrageous Falls and the most inconsistent skater Russia ever produced—could ever in a thousand years place high enough to even touch the podium. Especially not high enough to beat Yūri Katsuki for bronze.

 _What had happened?_

"What the hell happened there, Mila?!" Yuri yelled into his phone when Mila finally answered.

"I don't know what the judges were thinking, Yura, but their decision is final," Mila trailed off, like even she couldn't agree with the final standings.

"Their decision is crap. Pogofall never should have made the podium!"

"She scored higher than Yūri did in the short program," Mila's voice reminded. "Her free skate would have at least helped her match Yūri's final score. Mine did, don't you remember?"

"Don't give me that!" The Russian Ice Tiger barked. "You know that she was robbed tonight!"

There was a brief pause filled with muffled sounds, like Mila had covered her phone's speakers. "Of course I do, Yuri," she hissed this time. "Yakov practically said as much before we left the arena!"

"Is there somebody else with you?"

"A few reporters," Mila confirmed. "Viktor is near too, but he's still sulking that I stopped him from getting a photo with Yūri." The Russian teen punched the air in glee with this information. His wallet may have been lighter, but at least Mila followed through. "Crap, the reporters see me."

"Before you hang up…can you tell me if she was upset afterwards?" Yuri asked.

"…She was, Yura," Mila confirmed. "She wasn't angry…but she was definitely upset."

When the call ended, Yuri fell backwards onto his bed with a thud. Potya leaped onto his chest and sat down, staring into his face.

"It's not fair, Potya," Yuri grumbled, petting his beloved cat. "She was supposed to win."

All Potya offered was a meow and Yuri was left to think about Yūri Katsuki and her quad toe and how she practically erased Yuna Kim from history with a new world record. But all of that still wasn't enough to guarantee her a medal at the end.

 _It wasn't fair!_

* * *

 **minami-kenji**

[ **Photo** : Yūri standing on her toes to kiss Kenjiro's forehead, Viktor in the background]

YURI-SAMA KISSED MY HEADBAND! _#worlds #yurikatsuki_

 **mila-babicheva** _yuri-plisetsky_ Junior worlds silver medalist just got something better than your gold

 **yuri-plisetsky** _mila-babicheva_ Who the hell wants a stupid kiss from a girl?

 **v-nikiforov** _yuri-plisetsky_ You're not fooling anyone, Yurochka~

 **yuri_plisetsky** _v-nikiforov_ At least I wasn't caught glaring at a kid, stupid geezer

One look at one of the most popular pictures taken at the World Championships and Yuri was torn between cackling like a madman and chucking his phone straight at the lockers.

The gross part: Yūri Katsuki giving her fan a kiss.

The hilarious part: Viktor fucking Nikiforov looking like he wanted to sic the mafia on said fan.

The infuriating part: recognizing that said fan was the Japanese skater who won silver at Junior Worlds.

She was all the way at the other side of the world and Yuri could already hear Mila teasing him for missing out on a kiss from the other Yuri. Did he care?

Hell. **No**.

Yuri missed out on nothing. The Junior Worlds silver medalist was a loser whose only reason for getting that kiss in the first place was as a consolation prize.

"I am not jealous that I didn't get a stupid kiss!" Yuri screamed before he stomped out of the locker room.

* * *

Even if she hadn't gotten a medal, Yuri knew that the other Yuri would be part of the gala. The live-stream of the gala opening proved that much as she skated out with the rest of the single female skaters who had been invited.

But if Yūri Katsuki had been upset before, no one could tell now. Not when she skated out onto the ice, greeted by her home crowd. Especially not as she began to skate the exhibition that had served as her short program during the year that she made her return.

Yuri was curious back when Yakov warned Mila about the Japanese Yuri. He'd sworn he would watch one video of her just to see what the big deal was. The video in question had been her comeback year's short program, and Yūri knew how to get the audience's attention. She didn't choose a classically frilly piece that bored people to death like all the other girls. No, the other Yuri made her entrance to the call of war and Yuri loved it.

As she ended her program, Yuri could just barely see members of the audience rising to their feet as they rejoiced at the return of their hero…

 _A hero comes home, huh?_

None of the programs after Yūri's made any lasting impact on Yuri, especially not Viktor's. At least the balding idiot didn't do Hellfire again, but the Russian Ice Tiger knew that a sob story like Romeo and Juliet was hardly any better.

Could the old man be any more obvious about his obsession with the Japanese Yuri?

When the gala ended and the skaters gathered for the traditional group photo, Viktor was about to join the front when he suddenly headed to the back and ducked out of sight.

It would take more than a spot in the back to hide Viktor's receding hairline from the cameras. But Yuri's jaw dropped as Viktor reappeared, lifting a previously unseen Yūri high enough to be visible for the photo.

The answer to his earlier question, as Yuri held his phone in a tight grip, was—unfortunately— _yes_.

Who cared if Viktor was a five-time World Champion? When he came back to Saint Petersburg, he was going to die!

* * *

 **sukeota3sisters**

[ **Photo** : Group selfie of the World Figure Skating Championship gala skaters. Viktor is seen in the back holding up Yūri, who's oblivious to the man lifting her.]

 **sukeota3sisters** _v-nikiforov yuri-katsuki_ The history makers together _#worlds #viktornikiforov #yurikatsuki_

 **katsumama** Thank you for lifting Yuri, _v-nikiforov_ _#worlds #viktornikiforov #yurikatsuki #gala #yurilift_

 **minami-kenji** This is the greatest week of my life!

 **yuri_plisetsky** _mila-babicheva_ How the hell did this happen, baba?

 **mila-babicheva** _yuri_plisetsky_ I didn't think he'd go this far, yura

 **foxrainyur** i WHAT DID WE DO TO DESERVE THIS! IS THIS A NEW SHIP? _#victuri #yurilift_

 **queen-vjones** Get a grip. Yuri's still in a relationship with shanghai-long and a pair of big blue eyes aren't gonna sway her.

 **phichit+chu** Yuri! What are you doing in Viktor's arms?

 **queen-vjones** _phichit+chu_ What's Viktor doing holding Yuri in the first place?

 **yuri_plisetsky** _queen-vjones_ He's got a death wish, that's what

 **christophe-gc** Can confirm: Viktor's next target _#yurilift #vikturi_

 **yuri_plisetsky** _v-nikiforov christophe-gc_ Just sharpened my knife shoes

 **queen-vjones** _christophe-gc_ Nikiforov's nose

 **christophe-gc** _yuri_plisetsky_ What an adorable murder kitten you are

 **christophe-gc** …I did not see you there _queen-vjones_

* * *

The opportunity presented itself a few days later when Yuri entered the locker room to see Georgi and Viktor back from Japan.

Much like a tiger, Yuri gave no warning at all. The second he laid eyes on Viktor's balding head, Yuri marched up to the idiot—turning his back to an attacker clearly made him one—and kicked him in the seat of his pants.

"Yuri!" Georgi shouted while Viktor turned to meet his attacker.

"Yuri," Viktor greeted as if Yuri hadn't just kicked him.

That just annoyed him even more as he glared up at the current world champion. "That was for the stunt you pulled at the gala," the teenager spat.

"You don't mean my exhibition, do you?" Viktor cocked his head innocently. (As if he had any innocence left. Hellfire had sealed the deal.) Then his eyes lit up and his mouth curled into that snide smile Yuri always hated. "Or~do you mean when I lifted Yūri at the end?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Viktor!" Yuri snapped.

"If it bothers you that much, you'll have a chance to lift her yourself next season, Yura," Viktor teased.

Later when Mila asked why Yakov ran off to investigate the yelling in the men's locker room during her coaching session, Georgi would sigh dramatically and tell her, "Viktor opened his mouth."

Yuri would maintain that Viktor ran into his foot. Accidentally.

* * *

Half a month into the off-season, Yakov kept his word and let Yuri start practicing quads. ("About time, old man!") Yuri had been ready since his junior days. If it hadn't been for the American junior girl, he could have started earlier.

Not that the American ever would have gotten good points for it. Her jump could be seen from a kilometer away and she'd been totally off axis. Yuri wanted to laugh then if it hadn't been for the crash that came after. Obviously, Celestino Cialdini couldn't teach quads to girls.

Except for the Japanese Yuri. But Yuri reminded himself that there was a difference. The junior was still growing while Yūri had already gone through puberty. The Japanese Yuri had time to adjust her new body to the ice whereas the American junior's had been in the middle of change.

Yuri had no idea when his body would do the same, but he knew he didn't have much time left.

The teenager had just landed a quad salchow when Mila let out a loud gasp. "Yuri! Yuri, come over!"

"What is it?" Yuri asked as soon as he reached the rink boards, ignoring Yakov barking at Viktor to listen for once in his old life.

Mila looked up from her phone and Yuri knew immediately that shit went down. Whatever she had found, she looked horrified. Yuri really hoped she wasn't about to rope him into her boyfriend drama. "What happened?"

"Have you seen this?" She turned her phone towards him. Yuri hadn't read a full sentence before his lower eyelid twitched in annoyance.

The Russian Ice Tiger looked up slowly, hacked off that Mila had distracted him from practicing quads for something so fucking _stupid_. "Why the hell am I looking at a scam?"

Mila turned her phone back to herself to see that yes, she'd been offered a chance to spin the wheel and win a new phone. (Like hell that ever worked.) "Not this!" she grumbled as she furiously tapped away at her screen before she finally found what she was looking at before. "Here!"

 **Cialdini and Katsuki Split, New Coach Unconfirmed**

Yuri tried to skim through the article so that he could go back to practicing quads. But his eyes widened in shock when he finally processed the headline. "What the hell is this?!" Yuri screamed, reaching for Mila's phone at the same time Yakov started yelling at them to get back to work. "' _Amicable split'_ , my ass," he added as he read on. " _'Learning so quickly that there's nothing left to teach her'_ —clearly if you're stupid enough to let her go!"

"It could have been Yūri's decision," Mila pointed out. But Yuri barely heard her. Not while he was reading the final line of the article.

 _The Japanese Skating Federation states that Katsuki has yet to find another coach. "_ We are waiting for Katsuki's response. Rumors that say she has found a new coach have no basis. _"_

What kind of idiot would give up on a skater like her?

Yūri Katsuki: Grand Prix Final bronze medalist, two-time Four Continents champion, world record holder, and second woman to land a quad in competition. Any coach would be proud to have her.

It hadn't even been a month since Worlds and Celestino Cialdini already decided to get rid of her.

Mila's phone was snatched out of his hands by an old leathery pair that were clearly not Mila's. "I told you both to get back on the ice," Yakov growled as he locked Mila's phone and set it down on the barrier.

"I'm still on the ice!"

* * *

 **[So basically Cialdini fired her.]**

 **[It was a friendly split, get your eyes checked!]**

[Comment has been removed for violating community guidelines.]

[Comment has been removed for violating community guidelines.]

 **[It takes a special brand of idiot to lose a quad jumper and world record holder]**

 **[I bet Celestino was ashamed of her results at worlds.]**

 **[I hope she switches to Brian Orser, he'd be the perfect coach for her!]**

 **[After what Yuri did at the World Championships? Every coach in the world will try to get her, Orser won't even stand a chance!]**

* * *

Yuri's wise jab and Mila's "procrastination"—as Yakov put it—resulted in the two of them being let off for break later than Viktor and Georgi. Mila's phone had been detained until ten minutes into their lunch, when Yakov handed it to her before he went into his office.

The second she unlocked the screen, Mila immediately started typing away to somebody in her messages. Yuri figured she was texting her boyfriend until she whooped. "Thank you, Chris!"

Yuri didn't know why she had been texting Viktor's pervert friend. (After seeing his exhibition? Yuri was well within his rights to call Christophe Giacometti an incubus.) But Mila fired off a message again before she made a call. "Why does Chris have her number in the first place?" she wondered out loud as she put her call on speaker.

"Hello?" The second he heard the feminine voice on the other end, Yuri choked on his lunch. It wasn't just because he recognized the voice, but also because of one very good question.

Why the hell _did_ the incubus have Yūri Katsuki's number?!

"Yūri!" Mila greeted, placing her phone on the table between herself and the teenager. Yuri didn't know if he wanted to run away or wring Mila's skinny neck for this. "I saw the article. Did you really split from your coach?

"Well…Celestino originally recommended—I mean, we both decided that I needed a new coach to take me to the next level," Yūri quickly added. Her earlier admission only confirmed Yuri's suspicion that Cialdini was the one who gave up on her.

"Do you have any coach in mind? Or is your skating federation trying to pick someone for you?" Mila asked.

"Celestino actually gave me another coach's info so I could contact him, in case I wanted to skate under him."

"Who is he?"

"…Brian Orser," came Yūri's answer, as though she'd been trying to decipher a handwriting.

"Oh, he's good," Mila noted. "He coached Yuna Kim and that cutie from Japan—what's his name, Yutsuki?"

 _Obviously not!_ Yuri silently hissed/screamed at Mila. Why did she have to bring the name of that stupid relationship into this?

"His name's Yuzuru," Yūri corrected.

"So I guess Orser will be your new coach."

"…Maybe…but—"

"What happened?" Mila asked slowly. "Did he say no?"

"No!" Yūri exclaimed. "I haven't even contacted him yet but…the JSF told me that another coach wanted to contact me."

"Who?"

"…Knee…Nikolai?" Yuri started praying to whatever higher powers existed—but clearly not the one that robbed the Japanese Yūri of the podium—that the biggest playboy in Russia—Viktor came in second—hadn't tried to scout her. "The last name's Morozov—"

 **"NO!"** Mila and Yuri screamed at the phone on the table. "Do NOT go for Morozov, Yūri! He's a total sleaze, he's dated and divorced half of his students—" The female half, at least as far as Yuri knew. "—and no matter what anybody says, he _is_ the father of Miki Ando's baby!" Mila finished.

"I wasn't even considering him! I was just wondering how to turn him down!" Yūri explained.

"Easy, you ignore him," Yuri said before he could stop himself.

"Is someone else there with you?" The Japanese Yuri asked while the Russian Yuri cursed for giving himself away.

"My rink mate Yuri, and he's right," Mila said, grinning evilly at Yuri. The Russian Ice Tiger wondered how much trouble he would get into if he stabbed a fork into Mila's hand. "Morozov's probably expecting you to chase after him. All you need to do to scare him off is pick Orser to be your coach." Then her eyes widened, and the grin on her face grew wider. "Or~you could ask Yakov to coach you!"

 _"What?!"_ The two Yuris screamed. "Mila, you're not serious, are you?" Oddly enough, the two Yuris—even though they were separated by a continent and a sea—were in sync in their speech.

"Sure, I am!" Mila said cheerily as she swiped her phone off the table when Yuri tried to steal it. "You could train here, keep Yakov sane when Viktor drives him crazy, and I know Yuri would enjoy seeing you around everyday!"

"I would _not_ , you lying Baba!" It wasn't exactly a lie, but having her around meant Yuri would have to constantly chase off Viktor before he could get a chance to woo/corrupt/ruin the Japanese Yuri.

On second thought, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. If she was around, Yuri would have an excuse to shove his foot into Viktor's smarmy face every hour of the day. All he had to do was tell Yakov that Viktor was getting in the way of the Japanese Yuri's skating and the Russian Yuri would get off scot-free.

No, no—just having her anywhere near Viktor would be a disaster. Viktor might be young—"He's ancient! Get it right, moron!"—but Yuri wouldn't put it past him to pull a Morozov on the Japanese Yuri.

"But I don't even know Ru—" Was that the sound of an alarm bell on the Japanese Yuri's end or the sound of a dying battery? "—ssian and my phone is on low," Yūri added with an alarmed tone.

"How low is it?"

Yuri heard a sharp intake of breath. "…Ten percent."

"What else were you doing on your phone?" Mila asked, sounding both impressed and in disbelief.

"It's not my fault! The plane always gets cold when it's flying!" Yūri defended.

"Where are you?"

"I just touched down in Japan. Mila, I'm sorry but I really need to find an outlet—"

"Go ahead, I'll handle Yakov on my end," Mila assured. "Bye, Yūri!"

"Thanks, Mila."

When the call ended, Mila got out of her seat and prepared to leave. "Our break isn't over yet," Yuri pointed out.

"No, but I'm going to go find Yakov," Mila said with a mischievous/evil wink.

Realizing what she was going to do—and that she'd been completely serious about asking Yakov to take on a new skater—Yuri inhaled the rest of his lunch to chase after her. "No, no—don't you dare, Baba!"

Yuri barely had time to grab Mila's hand as she pushed the door to Yakov's office open a little when they heard Yakov say, "Really, Celestino, what were you thinking giving her up like that? I thought I'd seen the worst when you decided to keep Jones after the mess she created."

The teenagers looked at each other. Yakov didn't seem to notice his office door open and Yuri very much wanted to see where his conversation with Yūri's ex-coach was going. Nodding in agreement, Mila and Yuri let go of whatever they were holding and crouched near either side of the doorway.

Still, who was Jones? The name nagged him so much that Yuri knew he was supposed to know who Jones was.

"Yūri doesn't need me anymore," Celestino's voice rang, and Yuri was thankful for the fact that Yakov's old ears made him put the call on speaker. "She needs a new coach to take her in a new direction. That's something she wasn't going to get if she stayed with me."

"Then give me Katsuki's contact. I'll coach her." Yuri stared at the crack in the door in disbelief, Mila in awe.

But Celestino's reply quickly replaced that with fear. "I would rather give her to Morozov before I even consider _you_!" The Italian bellowed from Yakov's phone.

"You're a complete fool to think that Morozov would be a good coach to her, Celestino!" Yakov roared back.

"At least he cares about his girls, even if he cares a little _too_ much!" That was an understatement. Yuri barely held back a snort that would have given him away.

"You think I haven't dealt with female students before? Have you already forgotten which one of my students placed above Katsuki at the Grand Prix Final?"

"With your temper, Yūri would be training in a minefield! She doesn't deserve that kind of environment, especially after what I did to her!"

Yuri froze as he met Mila's gaze, seeing fear and confusion blended together on her face. He was sure his face was practically the same.

What did Celestino do?

"What did you do?" Yakov asked cautiously as if he heard their thoughts.

There was a pause, as though Celestino Cialdini was debating on whether or not to answer. "I ruined that child's senior debut." His voice came out thick, and even Yuri knew Cialdini was trying to force the words out. "I was supposed to give her the best start to her career and I ruined it. Yūri paid the price, and all I did was hide her away and try to forget what I did to her." A chill ran down Yuri's spine at those words. He wanted to feel angry but…he didn't know what he felt, but it clearly wasn't anger.

"Celestino…what did you do to her?" Yakov asked slowly, but his voice was harsh enough for Yuri to know that he was angry. "Don't think you're off the hook yet," he barked.

Yuri never heard a response. What he did hear were _footsteps_. The teenager tried to get up, but staying crouched for so long disabled his legs that he couldn't run away in time as Yakov threw open his door. "Get back on the ice, the both of you!" he screamed just as Yuri's legs finally remembered what they were good for. He scrambled down the hallway towards the rink, Mila catching up to him in less than a second. "I'll teach you to eavesdrop again!"

For the first in the longest time, Yuri fell after a jump. Of course Yakov yelled at him to get it right. Normally, Yuri would have grit his teeth in frustration after making such a rookie mistake. He landed a quad Salchow when he was only twelve. He was more than capable of attempting it again three years later.

Yuri tried to ignore what he had overheard as he went into a quad Salchow, which he landed on a shallow edge. But no matter how much he tried, Yuri couldn't let it go.

Celestino Cialdini had let Yūri Katsuki go because he was ashamed. Not of her but of himself, and he'd hidden away that shame like a disowned child.

He did something to her back then. Yuri didn't know what had happened all those years ago, but he was sure of one thing.

Celestino Cialdini did something to _hurt_ her.

To _break_ her.

To _ruin_ her.

And Yuri didn't want to know what it was.


End file.
